Gold

I want to stay up all night and pound the streets.

Nothing is solid in life but the concrete

under my feet

I want to sit on a beach and watch the sun

rise over the sea. When all's said and done

I'll still be free

When life is filled with colour

how can people see in black and white?

Should I fight? I think might

just so that I can feel alive

How can I feel malcontent when I've been told

we've never had it so good; the future's gold.

Fuck what I'm told

I don't want to reaffirm all my choices

continually for all of my life but

I'm cursed to be free

And that's the way it has to be

unfortunately