privilege...

Isn't it strange that a gift could be an enemy?
Isn't it wierd that a privilege could feel like a chore?
Maybe it's me but this line isn't going anywhere, maybe if we looked hard enough, we could find a backdoor.

Isn't it strange that the man standing in front of me doesn't have a clue why he's waiting, or what he's waiting for?
Maybe it's me, but I'm sick of wasting energy.
Maybe if I look in my heart I could find that backdoor.

I see you in line,
dragging your feet you have my sympathy.
The day you were born,
you were born free.

That is your privilege.