Folk punk songs are my new forte, or so i think

Jogging down the city,
breathing in the smog,
seeing all the people,
living happily with their jobs.
Some say to just live simply,
philosophy is a fraud,
lying to the people,
where it gets the money from.

If you're working freelance,
you 're your own boss,
but would that mean self hate,
since we all hate our jobs.
Society is failing,
with poverty by its side,
would it be much better,
if we all fucking died.

It's not about the money,
it's all about the art.
But if I had no money,
then I wouldn't sing this song.

Dive over/ Fly under

Could it be that it's done?
Life goes on and so must we.
Speak your mind,
just don't hold back,
when night comes,
let's just pray to see the day.

Most my life,
I'm just biding time,
and here I am,
doing fine.

Should we trust the paper masks?
The birds all flew away,
and so did I.
Half-hearted disguises lay lies,
tearful eyes,
wash our lives.

Most the time,
I'm wasting my life,
following the words of
"How I died" by "The Living Man"

Give an arm and leg,
try to stay sane.
I am fine,
wasted away.

My essay will be finished once the seventh seal breaks and the angles get their trumpets or whatever

Does silence disprove existence,
or does it just mean that someone's not interested.

Living our lives,
guided by the light,
and blinded by the sound that's not present.

Lives filled with love,
love for the waves,
bird songs pushed to the direction where the wind blows.
Even the grass is singing it's story of growth.

Hearing nothingness,
when you open your mouth,
the loud silence that you always talk about.

So do you exist if I can't hear you,
or is your existence dependent on your lovely silent song.