Just an average kid, in a modern world,
Locked away in a cupboard, eyes glued to the screen,
Occasionally flikering, fingers frantically typing.
You could be out there having fun with your mates,
But you choose another path,
You choose the path which leads you to a life full of rubbish.
You end up living in your cupboard,
On the internet, wasting your life away.
Mum calls for you to have your dinner,
You feel you can't move,
You feel you must keep on typing,
Your fingers won't stop typing,
You can't because your bum's glued to the seat,
And your eyes are glued to the screen,
You're in some kind of trance, unable to move.
Mum's patience wears thin as she grows extremely anxious,
Just then you feel a hand touch your shoulder,
Fingertips tighten and they begin to drag you away,
Your eyes leave the screen as you enter the normal world.