No Place For My Dreams

Dull not they urge.
No Work, No Job, No Money;
this is no place to make a difference.
You wanna get in,
you gotta fit in.

But what about my dreams?
In their corridors I scream.
Am I but a bright star,
fated to burn
and depart ever so briefly?

Sadly, my dreams they proclaim
are naught but a mirage;
an ideal, I can only but aspire.
The world they say is ever changing
and this is only the beginning
you either recognize
or you step aside.

Still I dream the old dream
to leave my footprints
upon the sands of time…
But No Work, No Job, No Money,
this is no place for my dreams.

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