The Maze
Walking through the room, everything seems strange.
Mysterious thoughts, scratching my head like a dog with mange.
Try to shoot down uneasy thoughts like targets in a gun range.
Imagine the future of music, Calvo doing lyrical rap on the grandest stage.
But these political cretens shoot down my dreams with a loaded 12 gauge.
Hoping this darkness is only just a rough phase.
I stand in the room and pause, I give a stern gaze.
Trying to leave this depression is like a half-dead rat trying to leave a maze.
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