Napalm Death
Walls of Confinement
Before my eyes I see a wall
12, 000 miles high
And the same amount wide
Within that wall are faces
Of people
To whom I once could relate
Now communicating seems hard
When there's an ego barrier to break through
Opinions of self opinion
Cloud a new horizon
The vision a mere illusion
Biased in conclusion
Trapped in seclusion
To the outside - exclusion
When an attitude is so biased
What can you expect to change?
Banging your head
But the wall's not moving
It's enclosing
Burning so much energy
Enthusiasm burning
Is change the 'real' obsession?
Or with a sense of pretension
Do you merely strive for credible attention?