I'm sick of these four walls
That I have to see every single day
Closing in on me
It's getting harder to breathe in this room
The walls are white and never have color
But on these walls are names
Mine's near the bottom
I'm at the bottom of the food chain.
My name is written in blood
No one else's is, just mine.
I might as well face it.
That's how it's always going to be.
I don't want it that way
But it's never going to change.
People are in the room.
They're talking, but I'm not listening.
I'm sick of being a three-dimensional character
In this cruel, two-dimensional world.
In this room that wont work.
Want to be different?
That wont cut it. You have to fit the status quo.
You'll just be at the bottom then.
You can have your freedom
But only if you're willing to pay the price.
I'm sick of these four walls!
I'm sick of this room!
All I want is to get out
And fly away
Because I'm tired of shrinking everyday
And I'm fed up with everyone else in here
I'll never be what you want.
And once I'm gone,
I'll never be back.
