Pressures of a hundred pounds   Crashing down in my life   Technicalities, realized fallacies   Fuel the fire of my strife   How do I know which path I'll walk?   Mental freedom, It's all I'll talk   So many possibilities   Yet my life has bee foreseen   How many fucking years?   Until I'm a real human being   Because every fucking movement   Is just a petty routine   Out of my reach   Out of m hands   I wake up everyday   Just to fill your demands   24 more just waiting for the next   Looking forward to something   Wasted, just like all the rest   Whose life do I live?   I want it back!   I'm taking it back