The Things

He came to free me from the prison of my own design
This is your life ending one minute at a time
As the scales fall from my eyes
I see vivid visions of what to do before I die
Liberated from property
My perception is shifting
Contrived desire, never have enough
The dream we’re sold will stay out of reach

We whored ourselves
So we could keep hoarding
We pissed away our youth
We work jobs we hate for things we don’t need
Now we’re slowly finding the truth
Swallowing lies
A shallow sense of meaning

Giving up on dreams to keep climbing the ladder
Perfect life and trophy wife, did you get what you wanted?
We detached from nature
Chasing the dollar
Not thinking for ourselves, I’ll put this in perspective
Everything small is just a small version of something that’s big
So why do we let our identities bleed into the things that surround us?
You’re not defined by the symbols of your status
So why do we let our identities bleed into the things that surround us?
Don’t be defined by the symbols of your status

The things you own end up owning you
Will end up owning you
Will end up owning you
Will end up owning you
Our chance to break the fixation
On power and possessions
To jettison the nonsense for something true
Spectating while life slips from our hands
Lost in mediocrity, whether white or blue
We’re forgetting what it is to be human,
To create instead of consume