it’s too early in the morning to have emotions
it hurts too much to have to go through all the motions
don't want to think, don't want to feel, don't want to breathe
but i can't be fucked to pack my things and try to leave

with broken hearts and shallow souls
we spend our lives becoming whole
but there's nothing here
for us to be

why can't i just go home and just go back to sleep?
i can't get out of this system i'm in too deep
don't have a choice, don't have a say, there's no way out
when there's no time to search for what this life's about

with rotted brains and hollow hearts
we think, we feel, we create art
but there's no air
for us to breathe

we spend our lives behind these desks
with tired minds, no time for rest,
and by the time we fall asleep
it starts again.

we waste away on things they say
will make us happier today than we were before
but there's no substance anymore.

we spend our lives behind these masks
with tired smiles, no time to ask
the things that mean something to us
in the end.

we put our souls into these words, like poets,
no time to rehearse, but what is time
but an illusion of the past?

and if you think about it long enough,
we all are diamonds in the rough:
not pretty until the waste is chipped away.

we create illusions to deter
ourselves from all kinds of self-worth
meanwhile happiness is a stone's throw away.