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(Jimmy P. Brown II, George Ochoa) What kind of society do we have Where doing the wrong is right? Living by rules pressured in Throughout time The lies are always being fed While the world is going to hell Do all you can to please one, please yourself A product of society, feelings are not inbred I'm made to feel no sympathy I may as well be dead I know my life means more than this But selfishness has been my creed Is there a way to feel again To remove this rotted seed I was born this way, can I change Or will I remain a product of society Lust and power, insidious greed A make up of what I am I owe society for who I am A selfish child in the form of a man Feelingless, I could care less About what happens to you Repent, recant, change my ways? Contradiction from what I knew Society's sick, the one were in Where doing the wrong is right Pollution of the mind, its now time Rise up against the filth That's being fed to you and me Do all you can to please one, please yourself
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