Lyrics The Story of Our Life - Nine Eleven

The Story of Our Life

We may only have time to
Count the square yards offered to us and those we’ll never thread upon
Dream of spaces our brain can no longer imagine
Talk about happiness in the past tense
With colors that we no longer can see
Count the one not left anymore to live
Born as king?!
Yeah, the palace where our throne is set is a bog!
So that we can only shit our rage in a dream and live anarchy through poems
Lost in the shithole that sheltered once our good resolutions
One gives birth so that one can eat
One keeps on going so that one ends up under plastic and behind shop windows
Nothing left to understand, nothing left to learn in here
We only need to laugh and cry…
And mechanically execute orders from slaughterhouse to the grave
How many more minutes to go, each one bearing one more regret?