There’s no coherence in the searching of happines.
I go outside home ( closed place )
I go in the car ( closed place )
I go to the job ( closed place )
I go to the happy hours ( closed place )
I return home to prepare the diner ( closed place ).
The weekend I go dancing, and I pay to forget how
Many times I find my self in a closed place and more then this
How they cost to me to be between them.
Always I find myself searching the promis land.
Fuck the sistem.