Akotowaa - The Curse of They lyrics

Fickle dreams and wishful things Will get you nowhere wise. The industry of artistry's set up for your demise. For all your days, you'll tread a maze Alone until you croak Each dream you draw, life will erase, And all poems you spoke. Your life will leave no evidence That you were ever here. You pray and plead to Providence In vain hopes that He'll hear. But in the end, you've always known You'd live, write, cry and die alone.