Surgical Strike

Driving to my designer job Pondering my authenticity Ready for a surgical strike Against the imposter of me Bay doors now opening Missles armed, blinking red Has a non-approved thought Ever entered my little head? Missle lock acquired The target is red hot It’s hasta la vista baby Looking down for the shot Flack all around me now As I scan below New Balance, Levis Countless brands and their salvo Holy spit, that was close! My horizon spinning wildly Am I walking talking billboard With no understanding of me? Pulling the nose back around I’ve got to make this one count Does our hive mind steer itself Or is it influenced from without? And is it such child’s play Like trapping lightning in a cell To buy my untapped potential With thoughts of being someone else? Pushing this machine to the limit Soaring high above so many How deeply have I been branded By the stamp of authority? Attention mission control I’m not returning to base Just label me a traitor I no longer believe in this way But with sobs behind my visor Fruitlessly slowing near the heavens I begin tumbling back to Earth Just in time to clock in