You spend your days
At a dead end job
Where you just do
What you are told
And you come home
To an empty place
Fall asleep by the TV set
And on the weekend
You get all drunk
Try to escape
Till Monday comes
Why is it so we die just as copies
If it's so we're born originals
So it goes, so it lingers
While life is slipping
Through your fingers
And you're counting the days
As it seems
Without goals
And without dreams
Why is it so we die just as copies
If it's so we're born originals
Burn, heart, burn
Yearn, heart, yearn
It's so sad, it's not a life
It's a storage of a man
And I'm not asking
For an easy time
But I'm asking
For a meaningful life
Why is it so we die just as copies
If it's so we're born originals
Burn, heart, burn
Learn, heart, learn
Why is it so we're all replaceables
It's because we're all predictables