This HTML5 document contains 15 embedded RDF statements represented using HTML+Microdata notation.

The embedded RDF content will be recognized by any processor of HTML5 Microdata.

Subject Item

n2:

rdfs:label

Make Your Mind Up

rdfs:comment

Where should I go? If I were to go into the dark, Would anybody care? If I were to stay in the familiar light, I would now feel. I could not heal. Most words don't come easily, So can you listen closely, and hear my thoughts? I, Just want to run ahead of the crowd, I, Don't want to die I just want to hide, I, Just want to discover who I am, I, Really want to be free from all them, But you know what it's like, Time and time again, Feeling like a harmless glitch in a perfect system, Can I be deleted? Can I be patched? What is the reason for all my floating around?

dcterms:subject

n5: n8:

n6:wikiPageUsesTemplate

n7: n12: n13: n16: n17:

n20:

2016-12-24

n14:

"Make Your Mind Up"

n15:

black; white

n9:

n10:

n18:

n19:

n11:abstract

Where should I go? If I were to go into the dark, Would anybody care? If I were to stay in the familiar light, I would now feel. I could not heal. Most words don't come easily, So can you listen closely, and hear my thoughts? I, Just want to run ahead of the crowd, I, Don't want to die I just want to hide, I, Just want to discover who I am, I, Really want to be free from all them, But you know what it's like, Time and time again, Feeling like a harmless glitch in a perfect system, Can I be deleted? Can I be patched? What is the reason for all my floating around? But as the walls fall down, and my thoughts start to hurt, I think to myself; Was it all really worth it? This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted. Their words want to chop me, chop me, chop at me, Falling into something that's too deep for me, climbing my way back up back up, back it up. And with each passing day, The same question is asked: Why can't you make your mind up? I am sick of this, we all know. But what is different now? Nothing new, never new, so why am I still living like-- Oh, the constant switching - it hurts. Me to them and back again. Disconnect me, trash me. Give me a hand I'm begging, I'm still too scared of the dark but, Even within light, there's light. A bit of hope for us is what I need to get me-- Have I dug too deep once again? I'm tired so forgive me. I can't think of why I-- No, I can't think at all now! But as the walls fall down, and my thoughts start to hurt, I think to myself; Was it all really worth it? This is what you wanted. This is what you wanted. Their words want to chop me, chop me, chop at me, Falling into something that's too deep for me, climbing my way back up back up, back it up. And with each passing day, The same question is asked: Why can't you make your mind up? (What do I do, where do I go, How did I learn, all I now know Repeated over and over again, and reversed in some areas.)