Aug. 15th, 2009

havepatience: (Default)
Chords: D5-A5-B5-G5

(very fast punk beat)

An overwhelming sense of apathy
It's hard to be what you think that I should be
And of your guidance I'm in desperate need
But of course, that's the way you made me
It all seems like some master plan
To define what I'll be when I'm a man
But I'm still a kid who needs to grow
That's why I'm putting on this show

Living up to expectations I never set for myself
Curtail my own ambitions, put my heart up on the shelf
Let me live, Let me die
Let me decide what to do with my Life

It's like some giant cookie cutter
And we're expected not to mutter
As we're selected for tasks
Questions never asked
Menial assignments, yes
and tests concerning placements,
It's like some bureaucracy, the education factory

Living up to expectations I never set for myself
Curtail my own ambitions, put my heart up on the shelf
Let me live, Let me die
Let me decide what to do with my Life

(wicked simple punk rock guitar solo)

Why is it you plan what I will be?
Is it to see how I'll affect the economy?
Have two-point-three kids, and a house of my own
Thirty-three and still repaying student loans.
--end song--

A bit of background is in order. I wrote this to express my normal feelings of adolescent angst at being put in a box, defined, and pushed forward on a life plan I didn't understand and wasn't ready to want. I auditioned for the high school talent show with a completely different song, a lovey-dovey sappy song I had written that was also about adolescent emotions. However, when the principal refused to let me drop Advanced English to lessen my workload (this was a time when I was working 5 days a weekend, at school until 9 every night), I surreptitiously performed this song to a rousing applause from my fellow students. I did not win the talent show.

Looking back, there's a lot about myself that's communicated here. Wow, was I angsty. And I'm really frustrated that I can't remember most of the second verse. I'll have to try, and I will update once I do.

It's strange, now, but eight years later, three kids and a house sounds like a blessing. I still don't think I ever want to be pressed into it, or get a career for a career's sake, but it's what seems to be happening anyway.

What a strange fucking time in my life. Everything and nothing made sense. It was so hard, but came so easily. I just knew that I knew everything, and that I had so much more to learn. This was when I really began to articulate my feelings of yearning for non-attachment. If I could just drop out of high school, and hit the road, everything would be hunky dory (judgmental snort).

I think I'm glad I graduated high school, because if I didn't, I wouldn't have gone to college. Which, you know, I think I'm glad that I did. I think.

I can't get to sleep because my teenage punk rock is flooding through my mind. I keep playing air guitar while laying down in bed, trying to figure out that goddam second verse. I'm so tired.

Does anyone that might remember that second verse actually remember it? Clue me in to any parts that you think might be in it. I can remember the cadence and phrasing, but not what was actually said.

(UPDATED 8/28/09: More of the second verse remembered! Way to go memory!)
(UPDATED AGAIN 9/2/90: Whoo!!! Remembered the rest of the second verse! Yay long term memory!

...and upon reflection, wow, what a mediocre song writer I was. It sounds better all fast and squished together, and fast. Did I mention fast?)

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