Post by Silva on Nov 21, 2009 19:38:16 GMT -5
Goodbye suburbia
goodbye shattered dreams
and empty promises
of safety from prejudicial fears
My father was the clone of a million fathers
my mother was the clone of a million mothers
and I was the clone of a million boys
conditioned to systematic singularity
Wondering what to do between
Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon
the fires in our caves shone brightly
the illusionated sunny days
But when the rain fell
and the bubbles beneath us burst
we fell (some fell more than others)
and I realized that my reality is not of my own
So I tried to digress this life
but the establishment prevailed
and I fell even harder so that
no one would take such epiphinated paths
Goodbye suburbia, please die suburbia
you slaughterhouse of individuality
originality's deathtrap
your standards will never coincide with the outside world
That Leave it to Beaver mentality
in an HBO reality
didn't you realize the fallacy
it followed me and the kids who weren't alright
We couldn't help but be astray
but none of us could ever say
what we discovered in our helpless daze
the bottles and bongs that came into play
only after the ostracization
and the unholy forming congregation
when I could finally break the strain
and others joined to reject the same
Goodbye suburbia, go away suburbia
don't ever fool another again
with your postcard paradise
and that underlying disgraceful plot
To curb everything outside your norm
and pretend everything is so beautiful
despite your disgusting face
this mask misleads us no more
No more distraught youth
or teenagers in dismay
because they all need a diverse sight
to decide what they have to be
Goodbye suburbia, go to hell suburbia
it's what you are to me
(I sent this to my creative writing class, and while everyone liked it, I just wished it had a little more criticism, so please let me know what you think)
goodbye shattered dreams
and empty promises
of safety from prejudicial fears
My father was the clone of a million fathers
my mother was the clone of a million mothers
and I was the clone of a million boys
conditioned to systematic singularity
Wondering what to do between
Saturday morning and Sunday afternoon
the fires in our caves shone brightly
the illusionated sunny days
But when the rain fell
and the bubbles beneath us burst
we fell (some fell more than others)
and I realized that my reality is not of my own
So I tried to digress this life
but the establishment prevailed
and I fell even harder so that
no one would take such epiphinated paths
Goodbye suburbia, please die suburbia
you slaughterhouse of individuality
originality's deathtrap
your standards will never coincide with the outside world
That Leave it to Beaver mentality
in an HBO reality
didn't you realize the fallacy
it followed me and the kids who weren't alright
We couldn't help but be astray
but none of us could ever say
what we discovered in our helpless daze
the bottles and bongs that came into play
only after the ostracization
and the unholy forming congregation
when I could finally break the strain
and others joined to reject the same
Goodbye suburbia, go away suburbia
don't ever fool another again
with your postcard paradise
and that underlying disgraceful plot
To curb everything outside your norm
and pretend everything is so beautiful
despite your disgusting face
this mask misleads us no more
No more distraught youth
or teenagers in dismay
because they all need a diverse sight
to decide what they have to be
Goodbye suburbia, go to hell suburbia
it's what you are to me
(I sent this to my creative writing class, and while everyone liked it, I just wished it had a little more criticism, so please let me know what you think)
