See.
Life is like a town full of crossroads,
Every block is a part of your life and every block got its own.

And every road you can choose is a decision,
There's no right or wrong.

Only what you yourself think,
And what you yourself want.

But you can be burned alive on these blocks,
Hear propaganda from your own leaders,
Those you should trust.

Did you then choose the wrong road once,
Misled by even friends, family and those you love.

Is it a permanent solution on a temporary problem?
Maybe, but would you rather live poor then as a brain dead worker?

A slave under control,
A bird without a song.

As a human without rights for a life,
Without nine to five and a big good looking house.

I hate my country,
And I love it equally as much.

I hate my way of living,
But I love it equally as much.

I hate myself,
And I love myself,
Something is wrong.

My brain is upside down,
Maybe it's just time to flip around and go home.