Tell me because I'd like to know,
If we really do have a choice,
And if that's so, why do we feel…
That we have to make harsh our voice!
Don't they really mean it?
And don't they listen at all?
Do they really think that the choice they gave!
Was even a choice at all!
Choices, it's part of life isn't it,
Do we, don't we, can we?
Choice isn't all it's said to be,
Well, it certainly isn't to me!
They say we have a choice to make,
And give you all the information,
You try and absorb what it is they have said,
But your brain suffers inflammation!
The stress of the choices we make,
Like a fire it burns in our brain!
That we don't know what way to go,
The choice cause such strain and pain!
‘You have a decision to make!' They said,
‘And you really need to listen to us!'
‘Do what we say, not what you want!'
‘Follow our instructions without a fuss!'
So I followed instructions as told,
And therein lay my ‘choice!'
The choice was, I didn't have one,
They never tried to listen to my voice!