Walking down the street,
The cold and cracked pavement,
Avoiding the glares of the people that we see everyday.
Just the same old faces,
In the same old places,
Doing the same damn thing,
With the same damn reasons.
Money, love, lust,
Whatever the fuck keeps us going on and on
With our pointless lives and lies.
We could keep on,
For no reason.
Killing the Earth, the soil beneath our feet.
We have no meaning, no purpose.
We just exist.
But who's to say:
We're always on the road,
We must be going somewhere.


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