Wanted The World, and Now The Air Makes Me Sick

Constant anxiety consuming in foxholes
Let this emotion be my guiding sight
Looking through the stained glass lense
Of a hopeless vagrant

I've been arguing with myself on the importance of accomplishments
And what they mean to us as a society
Whether my comfort in my current lifestyle is a set back or progression

It's been raining pure bragging rights over these seedless pores
Irrigate this shriveling terrain with something more
Is a virtuous existence worth it's weight in monetary success?
Does it fall below the line?
And what is virtue anyway?

Would you rather be a bigwig or a citizen?
A leech or good samaritan?
A giver, a taker, free range or caged?
You could be the smartest motherfucker
And still be a slave to the minimum wage
You can be an entrepreneur and throw your name in the hat
Just to miss your swing when you're up to bat
Push yourself to be another part of the puzzle
Take a number to be the next sucker paying the piper his muzzle

You know Kant never travelled more than 10 miles from home