Under My Skin

Stuck in cycle, like a recital that's being recycled

Now, I can't sleep when I'm trying to make ends meet

I can't write in a generation so tight

There's an autocrat breathing down my neck

There's a factory printing out the trends.

There's a currency controlling every man

Are we really making music? Is what I find amusing

What about the kids? What about them

Can a boy chase a dream without following the regime

Am I blend, am I boring, am I bad for not conforming

Should I give up everything I believe in