who am I dying for?

Been there & done that deja Vu is hidden in my core In a land before time it was fairy tale folk lore It became something I couldn't ignore secret tunnels entering a door forbidden journey exiting to the floor I couldn't help myself I wanted more searching and coming up empty handed a routine so foreign I describe it as a chore I imagine I can fly, a dream within a dream I have never dreamed before selling my soul at the sea shore living but not alive is a bore so I ask who am I living for heart of gold but my mind is poor I'm not your ghost never more I'm not your shadow anymore stolen souls at the pawn store pimping out identities to a whore brutalizing personalities with verbal gore my face the devil wore empty cups cannot pour my soul is not for sale I swore