Changing ft. Motormouf

Mumma, Papa; I know you will be proud of me. I made it to see my 21st in this century. It feels like yesterday I was in the elementary playing on grounds with chalk; drawing hungry centipedes.
Yes, those were the days - playing, gripping swing chains. 6 years, high and rising. ‘98 was my ‘daisy age’ but things leave with the winds change. Not used to the movement that nowadays my grin makes.
I want to take it back to no responsibilities - collecting conkers, eating sweets and actually dreaming of those Christmas trees.
I have the cheek to weep over day of school gates when there’s 7 billion people, most are riddled up in estates. We’re in need of change.

Flat-line, hearts break, the bravest face - television airwaves care to keep me up-to-date.
Can’t bare to watch, put palms in front of my face. If you’re seeing this today we’re looking at life the same way.
It ain’t great, but it’s all good. Could be better, but for now I got the mask and the gloves, tracksuit and the hood. Good, conscious is covered! I’m moving on up…
But time slips like hot butter; I’m trying to spread the love but the bread is so hard to get a cut of…

Oh, no. Everything is changing. I can’t keep up with the times. Everyone is overtaking me and I can’t get it right. If there’s an easy way out I’ll take it, I’ll take it. I’ve worked too hard for too long, I’m breaking, breaking down.
Breaking down.

Incidentally, innocence evaporates with age. Dissolved and deteriorated in dominant adult states.
Day old Dominoes are rotting in your microwave...a stomach full of something designed to keep you awake.
Glazed eyes parade the ceiling, you’re numb to this feeling - believing in yourself. There’s more to be achieving!
These are the days of a slave rearranging faith. New people, new pain, no human is the same. So who’s to say the ‘blame game’ isn’t fair play as you’re rolling the stolen dice to die in less than 6 million ways.
From the cradle to the grave shift. Praying Satan is fable myth. My word, hell on Earth is baking as it is...but it’s cool. I’ll fan their hatewave with the payslips - the milky bars are one me! ...because I’m the only one that I’m drinking with.

I’m in the club with no company but my cup, a bartender and a disc jockey playing what he wants. Turning up the tinnitus to channel into subs, travelling into love, laughing as the lonely hyena cubs so...let’s have a toast to change and everything that stands in its way and anyone who makes that stand - it won’t be me mate. I’ve had enough. It’s enough to make the rough bluff. You were in the wrong lane to save me breaking down. I’ve broken up.

Oh, no. Everything is changing. I can’t keep up with the times. Everyone is overtaking me and I can’t get it right. If there’s an easy way out I’ll take it, I’ll take it. I’ve worked too hard for too long, I’m breaking, breaking down.
Breaking down.
Oh, no. Everything is changing. I can’t keep up with the times. Everyone is overtaking me and I can’t get it right. If there’s an easy way out I’ll take it, I’ll take it. I’ve worked too hard for too long, I’m breaking, breaking down.
Breaking down.