For the ones that'll hate your guts

Cleaned-out, corporation process
Dying in the progress
Children that can talk about it living on the railways
People moving sideways
Sell it till your last days
Buy yourself a motivation
Generation nothing
Nothing but a dead scene
Product of a white dream
I am not the singer that you wanted
But a dancer
I refuse to answer
Talk about the past, sir
Wrote it for the ones who want to get away