Different lives in different lives

I should left more than a decade than to be buried tied to a life of the no ones...
Could have jumped off of mountains into bright cities of culture and love. Or it would have be sleeping in cold bricks, warming with whiskey...
Daring to live as if I don't fall here in my home, where I was born, where the looks I get are of the neighbor who doesn't speak...
Nothing has been betrayed in making a life like my fathers, because he never had the money to spoil me into being frivolous with what little we had...
Sitting as a plebian, dreaming of others lives, making sense and terms of this one...