If I cant be my own Id feel better dead

Nutshell

We chase misprinted lies
We face the path of time
And yet I fight
And yet I fight
This battle all alone
No one to cry to
No place to call home


My gift of self is raped
My privacy is raked
And yet I find
And yet I find
Repeating in my head
If I cant be my own
Id feel better dead