In times of trouble
We do stay
Outside the problems;
We tuck them away
To hide in the back of our minds,
Though we always
Know the troubles exist.
We are too dependent
Upon things to give us happiness;
The list
Does go on and on;
The things that we use
To distract us fawns
From the fact
That our bruises
Are now too bruised
To ever heal again.
American youth
Was once a pleasure,
But now 'tis a pain.
We make more hurtful mistakes
Than happy memories; we'll never meet the sun again.
We attempt to heal our hearts that break
By living in the moment
By following our human wants
And need to be distracted
From our ongoing immorality
Our ongoing disillusionment
Our ongoing, slow fade
Of our lives.
Us American teens,
We're hanging on.
With every breath,
We sing our death song.