I have lived a while and still
I don't know why I'm here for,
It just seems I'll live until
I'll have no one else to bore.

There are things I can't make out,
There are rules I can't obey,
It's the world I cannot doubt,
It's either death or go their way.

There are wishes and no choices,
'Follow the stream or suffer',
I sit still and hear voices
While I cry out for a buffer.

I was fresh but I've shrivelled,
It's natural...for others,
It goes beyond what I've drivelled,
I just hope that it bothers.