Give me the keys to the city
Let me win the lottery
If there’s a way, there’s a will
I am balancing on the windowsill
And give me space to do what I want
Let me have reasons not to rant
I’d like to leave all this behind
Clear my cluttered mind
Epileptic fit
We don’t need all this shit
I’m so tired of things
I’m so tired of me, me, me
Burn it, crush it, smash it
Give me a chance to prove I’m right
Find me gloves and I will fight
If there’s a cure I will find the recipe
Cause I am walking on the edge
And give me answers right now
When, which, who and why and how
I can stand the test
While my request is being processed