And you, what's your excuse ?

Why aren't you an artist, a scientist, a hero ?
Dont you feel the urge to be more than you, but no more than anyone ?
Dont you hear further than the noise of living ?
Dying of being average, simply replaceable copycat.
Arent you tired of your mechanical reactions ?
Dont you see the unbearable mighty numbers ?
Everything's temporary, transiting bodies and futile hapiness
Could you be more, do you have what it takes ?
Would you be able to salt reality ?
To deliver something new.
To create, invent, inspire.
Extirpate the divine out of you.
Build a death with a meaning.
To let the place tidier or cuter.
Dont you smell the fear of your own destiny ?
If life's a bitch, who's creativity ?
Craving to be high but you're too heavy.
Addicted to the very instants tasting god in your veins...