Yours… or, Mine…

you look at me with hatred when I do not conform
with pain you punish me, I think that is the norm

relentlessly you try to shape me; do I change?
I do not know myself, this just all seems strange.

you tell me to pray, you instruct me to kill,
you confine all my being, and preach me free will

you tell me to work, and you tell me to pray
my sweat for your world, you’ve made it this way

fight for your freedom to infringe upon mine,
support your ambition – the whole world confine

let us all work, let us defend, let us obey
the pain, the pain – comes either way

so you think that I listen; don’t notice them die
work and pray until I’m oblivious to the lie

and I’d argue I’m not, but I don’t really know…
scary thought is, perhaps you’ve already let go.

[audio:http://www.andrewdanderson.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/10/yoursormine.mp3|titles=yoursormine]

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