Hurts the stories Those era's ending Does the struggle ever change Or is this engineered? Do the rich punish with strife? Just so they can acquire the golden culture from us We are used Abused, not really Forced to be grateful so others can succeed Chaos engineered for games of culture and control Or is this how we elevate ourselves Make it make sense to me Each side uses me, I suffer for their gain A shit hawk trailer park future Nobody cares They all pretend to care, and on the next note they leave us for dead Frost bitten, or gone Help is insincere, handouts make you sick and entitled Danger is true, lost in dependence Money is nothing but transactional to the rich, but everything to the broke And I am just a crushed rock, sand on the beach Timeless yet meaningless Permanent poverty forges my envy Sick with it indeed But still the sun rises over savage battles Can you still love through this pain, hardly Certainly. My burden is their fun And I am just a crushed rock, sand on the beach Timeless yet meaningless And here I go again Fighting for day And every little thing which is their laughable struggle Is my daily demon to slay And I am just a crushed rock, sand on the beach Timeless yet meaningless And here I go again
