Plastic Paper feeds us
Plastic Paper clothes us
But Plastic Paper leaves me empty
What more do you want, Plastic Paper?
I gave you my belongings
I gave you my time
Yet you consumed my mind
My friends agree with you, Plastic Paper
How prestigious you are
We save save save and hoard what we cannot afford
Yet I do not see how it is possible to glorify you, Plastic Paper
When all you did was make me blind
The weight of your last pressure stabilizes my soul
Makes me understand the danger of not contributing to the billion dollar war
You owe us your tastebuds
A hot mess of ice cream drips from an unfinished cone, giving me the simplicity of having something to own
I stare at the drain where my Plastic Paper has gone
I understand now that Plastic Paper was Paper Devil's spawn
Your wit is a smirk behind the curtain of drawn eyes and smiling faces
The seamstress can mend my soul but she will fail to mend what has been sewn into my eyes
I am bleeding
I can no longer keep up with everything I owe
But they still won't let me go.
You still owe us one more thing, Adrenaline Junky
I owe them my life
I’d sing to you if I knew the words to my own tunes
Yet now I am nothing more than a croaking voice to put in earbuds too
I wish they would tell me what I did wrong
Provoking me is silence and alienation for not keeping Devils in my pockets
I speak in hoping the world will understand
Only it fails too
Just like I do
We can choose how to use you, Paper Devil
We are not your control
No longer persuaded to keep up with a society that does not feel good enough in their own souls.
Plastic Paper may feed us
Plastic Paper may clothe us
But Plastic Paper is not our pass time
I ask of you not to place me into a coma made for Adrenaline Junkies.
And you Paper Devil, will not own mine.