Move response to marcus

Move, thats what I want to do, move, but lazy is painted around the room, stuck on the bed, like jesus on the cross, forced to be a slave to the almighty minimum wage, daydreaming in bed but still awake, greeting the morning sun, but fleeting from the day, the voice inside says move, yes thats why I want to do, but the voice is stuttering and confused, fused with, locked with, chains and cuffs that are invisible, asked me; more mental than physical, the message is in the media, the ads scream at ya, but I ain't hearing ya, reaching in my pocket and found an idea, hands dirty with paint trying to paint the pictcha(picture), drinking the potion from the poisonous pitcher, so now we walk and talk but still asleep, like we left our beds without waking, but they call me crazy, cos I refuse work daily, cos mickey dees got the fat corporate cats deezed, like their wallets were on creatine, cos mickey dees employees got bumps and bruises on their knees from kneeling and pleading and grieving, and saving a little pay for the uneversiteh, while other kids are OSAP-ing the money foolishley, they tell me to move, tranquilized, like the animal in the zoo, thats how I am in my room, heavy in a trace, contemplating whether I should twirl with the devil for a little dance, but I am on a different level, not like the kids leaving uni with no skills, shopping malls selling cheap thrills, everybody is hypnotized, like the air leaving the room, I'm ready to move