The world may be changing, but so is my skin- a luster here or there, blister thin, and I'm wondering, what can really become of all this? If we give the mind of a thick headed beast say, then who really knows why we walk this way- left, right, left, right, left-out, right- but things seem easier when you are a little wrong. 'Cause if it's the pressure that moves you, and allows you to sink, you'll fall to desperate measures as the hearts of the innocent weep. Always more to have, more to keep, while nothing keeps us satisfied, until we can stand on some else's feet. We all want eternal life, but this life was never ours to keep. Constantly improving ourselves while we untangle the world, for nothing but a fancy seat.
So tell me why this just ain't right to me?