In a town where promises are plenty and the government hands out aid,
A question echoes softly, under the shade.
“Why try hard, why aim high, when help is just a call away?
Why bother with the struggle, if you’re okay day by day?”

The government says, “We’ll help you, keep you safe and fed,
You won’t need to worry, we’ve got your back,” they said.
But this kindness has a shadow, a kind of hidden chain,
It keeps you in your place, with not much to gain.

“Why go for the mountain,” some wonder, “when the valley’s just fine?
Why face the storm, when you can just recline?”
Because in that easy comfort, there’s a trap so sly,
It tells you, “Don’t bother,” and time just passes by.

But some folks aren’t buying, they want to chase their own dream,
Not just live on handouts, or so it would seem.
They talk about doing things, making their own way,
Not just taking what’s given, but having their say.

They gather in the streets, their voices loud and brave,
“We want to earn our keep, not just quietly behave.”
For freedom and the chance to chase what they deem sweet,
To work hard for their wins, and not just take a seat.

So why aim for something bigger, why try to break free?
It’s about making your own path, as far as I can see.
Not just going with the flow, but steering your own boat,
And in that hard-earned journey, you’ll have your own note.

So let’s not be fooled by an easy ride, bought and sold,
But aim for the horizon, with courage bold.
The road might be rougher, and the climb can be steep,
But in that effort, you’ll find a joy so deep.