Prisoners

We wake up in a bed of silk
Then stare up at the ceiling as high as the sky
Like it’s our way to fly
We’re chasing a reason to exist
But can’t seem to escape the loneliness
Running in circles around happiness

With houses made of gold, defined by what we own
We follow what we’re told, fit right into the mold
Is this what we need to breathe?
Or are we just feeding our disease?

We’ve lost sight of what we can’t touch
We’ve lost it all if we can’t remember how to love
A full plate with an empty heart
We feast on greed until we starve
We wonder why we feel empty inside
Why there’s a hunger that we can’t satisfy
A lonely world with a bad design
We waste our time on an endless climb

With houses made of gold, defined by what we own
We follow what we’re told, fit right into the mold
Is this what we need to breathe?
Or are we just feeding our disease?

Prisoners of a hopeless war
Fighting with a double edged sword
We could be free
If we stop feeding our disease

We stand on top of the world, but still feel so alone
We stand on top of the world
With no one to hold, we stand at the top of the world alone

With houses made of gold, defined by what we own
We follow what we’re told, fit right into the mold
Is this what we need to breathe?
Or are we just feeding our disease?

Prisoners of a hopeless war
Fighting with a double edged sword
We could be free
If we stop feeding our disease