going in yoke

[Intro] [Verse ] This is a question I ask myself every day. Finding an answer? Oh, damn, that's a terrifying fear. I dig up my old texts and turn them into songs with the help of artificial brains. I push on the "Create" button like a bughouse old fart in a slot machine room. [guitar solo] I polishing old texts that have neither a beginning nor an end anymore. I'm setting up my home recording studio. I'm figuring out video editing software to make something fun at the intersection of genres and blow up my dopamine receptors. Sometimes I share things with my friends; sometimes they laugh, sometimes they sigh with me. Five days a week, I work at the same company, doing the same things, and I see neither decent money nor gratifying attitude. That's true burnout bingo. Nothing changes in this kennel. [drums solo break] Sometimes I think about going back home, but I remember how overwhelming it can be on fatherland. Here, in foreign lands, I'm a stranger among strangers. But being an outsider among those who are supposed to be your own is always an even more unpleasant experience. [Bridge] An honest and infallible answer would likely be long and somber. I fight off the answers to this question, as Victor fights off a suddenly appeared wasp. There's already too much sadness in the world, Sebastian. [epic guitar riff] For my dudes I wish only joy, strong spirits and pockets full of love! [Percussion break] I work at a job with no beginning or end, as if imps had crafted it for me. I haven't given up hope of shedding this cursed yoke [Outro] [End]