CTRL N

I'd let go of the small things, and shout stop playing on my heart strings

I'd CTRL N a fresh page, bring it on, seize the fun, give me a new age

I'd settle on the right path, speed too fast, and derail to the left track

I'd leave my script with the ink wet, one quick blink, blotted out with a life cheque

The way you treat me, the way you don't have a clue,

The way you bound me to the never ending justice pursuit.

The way you see me, the way you photo the booth,

The way you tease me when you calculate your next made up truth.

This apple's far from the tree