Can you say, baby, that you are yours?
Can you tell your life is completely honest to you?
Can you be certain that you are not straying from your path to fulfill another one’s?
This may be a tough subject. Maybe every controversial. But are you yours?
Can you say, baby, you are living your wildest dreams?
Can you tell your fantasies are being set in motion with every passing day?
Can you be certain you are not a simple chess figure being played?
Are you yours? Or are you a fabrication?
Is everything you say a made-up line? Is your body constraint with fear and cowardice?
Is everything you do a planned move? Is your own mind being erased to fit in a tape with someone’s propaganda?
You are not yours.
I look into your eyes and you are not yours.
I feel your posture and sense you are not yours.
You still have time to rebuild. You still have time to turn it all around.
Are you ready to be yours? Or are you gonna stay the same and die slowly and excruciatingly?
Can you be yours?