Hey genie, won't you grant me a wish?
For sadness to go and for wars to end?
For earth to be saved and selfishness to be tamed?
For this artificial life to be replaced &
a more realistic one to be named?
Hey genie, do we get to have our own bubbles?
to live in peace afar from troubles? Do we get to
blow some magical dust? To spare the soul of humanity
from all of the rust?
Are we allowed to reminisce the old days?
When seasons of the year were still alive and
in December we celebrated the rain? Are we allowed
to talk about pain? Being the humans we are today?
And considering the monsters we have made?
Hey genie, put up with the mess in me but it still
gets me that rights in this age are turning into
wishes, that goals of the future are nothing but
mere dreams and often for a moment, I mean moments
I wish Peterpan would switch places so I won't have to
witness this pitiful version of me
Genie, won't you grant me the wish?
blindfold me with a magical spell, seal
my heart so the truth I could only tell,
free my mind from this hell, and maybe
get me a pill to ease this heavy heart of
mine from all of the world's weight
