We'd do anything for momentary comfort,
We'd do nothing to self-confront
All the things we want to change in us,
There's always excuses, too little fuss,
We run into vices when we're running from us,
We turn into rebels without any cause.
Isn't it funny how we find strength for trivialities?
Self-control gets lost as part of the casualties,
Do you ever ask yourself where we are heading
When the most important thing is always...a thing?
Do you ever ask yourself if your past self is proud,
If it'd approve of you being just another consumer in the crowd?
Do you ever ask yourself just anything, time with yourself,
Or did you already lose your soul on some shelf?
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