Land of Ought

Here I am living in the Land of Ought,
Pretending to be happy, but I'm not.
I've been doing everything I should,
I do what I'm told to do- to be good.

A prisoner here without chains on my feet
Living a life that is incomplete.
Just one golden shackle on my left hand
Keeps me imprisoned, here in Ought land.

Everything's fine as long as I stay
Within concrete walls, damp and grey.
There is no light, it's so dark and gloomy,
I long to see the sun and flowers blooming.

I'm told how to act, I'm told how to think,
How much more can my heart possibly sink?
Sleepily floating throughout life,
A prisoner, a slave, a mother and wife.
No more denial, being awake isn't easy,
Life is no longer so light and breezy,
I can't get back to unconscious sleep.
And the spacy contentment I can no longer keep.


Here I am in the Land Of Ought...
Imprisoned and acting just like I was taught,
but I want out of this prison here,
the door is open, but can I go there?

Something tells me that I might die,
But I'm already here almost dead inside.
I have to go, I want to survive,
I want to be happy and free...