We live in a world

Where we can't live without jewels,

We were trained

To be overworked money churning machines,

And to let our dreams be held down by pins.

Wall Street was the aim

Poetry was just too lame

And Music was pretty much the same.

"That ain't gonna pay the bills"

"It can't even buy you meals"

"Be realistic! This is your Future!"

Yet these were the same people that once said "The world is your oyster".

Now, I am stuck at this crossroad

On onse side I see zombies parading in suits

On the other side I see dreamers strutting 

With no money in their hand

But with happiness no dollar bills can send

Even the angels and demons

Are no longer whispering

Cause this decision is only mine to bring

Is it the dream?

Or the money making mundane routine?