you

you do not know me
if you do not feel what i feel
if you cannot see what i see
if you do not bleed like i do
if you do not hurt
if you do not cry
cannot understand why
you confess the love
you feel you have then make me cry.
if you were different
then you would know
all that you say
all the toll
i'm only so strong
only so wise
living this love
living this lie.

SLAVE

We are slaves to the dollar bill.
There is no life with it, and there is no life without.
I never used to wonder what it'd be like without,
And always took for granted every dollar in my account.

I am a slave to the dollar bill.
This fucking piece of shit paper that entitles me to something.
I can't leave it at home. I need it to breathe.
I need it for the clothes that cover the physical me.
Greed is our will, and the more dollar bills the better.
We are judged.
I am judged.
My character is judged by my ability to make a fucking dollar.
I am a failure if I don't make enough.
I am scum if I don't make any.

Well guess what?
I don't make any.
I was treated like shit and left The Man.
So I am scum
And I am a loser
And I am a failure
For the inability to see it through
And I am an idiot
And I am nothing
Because now I have nothing
When before I at least had shit.

I am a slave to this disgusting world.
A world I am ashamed to live in
A world I am sickened to breathe in
The dream is the grind,
But I am behind.
With nothing to show for my menial life,
Except years of age from work and strife,
Nothing to give,
So why do I live,
In a life so unfulfilled,
Where I am a slave to the dollar bill.