Survival

Survival of the fittest but what does it mean? I don't run but I run through my mind Probably worse of than I seem, but enough to make it out alive alright If it wasn't for the meds I'd have tried to end my life Maybe once maybe twice Maybe more than three times Got way too much to say but I gotta make it rhyme Gotta count out every syllable to make up every line But what does that matter when we're running out of time By the way did you know The planet is dying, it won't happen slow Soon it will be gone and then where do we go? And what am I to do except shout from my gut But all of my complaining won't shut trump up Everyone is blind and they're stuck in a rutt At what point do I give in and give up? Survival is all that we cling to But none of us are fit enough Survival is all that we cling to But none of us are fit enough Survival of the fittest is not about muscle It's about brain power and your use in the hustle Self preservation through disassociation I can't cope with being part of the discussion So people swap and change on the podium From May's dismay to Johnson UGH Oh just give up, out of fucks to give and slogans to love Now I know the moaning's getting boring I can see my grandma tutting and my grandad snoring You don't know what you're missing, where's that steak on your plate? Said I wanna live for love and I don't wanna live for hate Oh wait, isn't that great, You're the one telling me you feel betrayed? Bloody hell we're the one's trying to save our days I could be full of rage but I save it for the stage Survival is all that we cling to but none of us are fit enough Survival is all that we cling to but none of us are fit enough None of us are fit enough There's an aching in this country, a subtlety that most can't see People are breaking and still they can't afford to eat Yet at my fingertips, I can see the whole wide world Step off my island, and could be killed for loving a girl Stars can't align when the Sun's the only thing that you read Open your mind, don't blame the worker underneath Death by a hundred thousand cuts That man is never gonna get my trust Survival is all that we cling to But none of us are fit enough Survival is all that we cling to But none of us are fit enough None of us are fit enough