Žodžiai dainai: Incubus. Make Yourself. Privilege.

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it weird that a privilege could feel like a chore?
Maybe it's me but this line isn't going anywhere,
Maybe if we looked hard enough, we could find a backdoor.
Find yourself a backdoor.

I see you in line, dragging your feet
You have my sympathy.
The day you were born, you were born free.
That is your privilege.

Isn't it strange that the man standing in front of me
Doesn't have a clue why he's waiting, or what he's waiting for?
Maybe it's me, but I'm sick of wasting energy.
Maybe if I look in my heart I could find a backdoor.
Find yourself a backdoor.

I see you in line, dragging your feet
You have my sympathy.
The day you were born, you were born free.
That is your privilege