scratch the surface and you'll see
someone who is too tired and beaten;
they try only to be told they won't succeed.
do you see how the other half lives?
their knees go weak when they turn around,
no ugly beast to meet in shining armor
just the thought that it will be night again
do you see how the other half lives?
open your eyes and see how the other half lives.
they, no i will accept my part in this;
i'll reclaim my title of "The Tactful Thinker"
we face the night with anxiety and fear,
and wonder how we'll get through it one more time
some turn to noise to drown out the demons within;
some say that frying your brain makes them disappear.
as for me, i don't think it's my position to say.
my thoughts are not my own, imprisoned
i'm not responsible, i don't have control anymore
sometimes, i'm bound and restrained from my joy;
sometimes, it's all i can do to force myself out of bed.
we don't do it on purpose, we just have brutal captors
and some of us can do the work our superiors give us
but some can't even pick up a pencil most days,
as most of our hardwon energy is spent pretending, faking,
trying to blend in with everyone else.
i have high ambitions, but i am in the frozen few
my situation is common yet goes unrecognized
labeled as "lazy" or it's just assumed that we simply don't care
so now do you see how the other half lives?
invisible masters that we are forced to follow;
buried with no air and left to breathe fine,
this is how the other half lives.
