We are the first to be burdened with/
the awful awareness/
of our immovable hubris/
Our exponentially festering hopelessness/
Too bored to watch the world burn/
Moving too fast to feel the planet turn/
Self-concerned, we never learn/
Our truth become impossible to discern/

We won't let the delusion slip/
Fingers embedded in our mother's throat with rigor mortis grip/
Flood the senses, kill the time/
Drown yourself in shallow bliss/
Spare no expenses, pumping this stomach full until it splits/

Inheriting disparity/
Separating subconsciously/
Resenting charity/
Challenging one another inherently/
Learning what it means to be free/
A destiny of monotony/
An extinction of clarity and the relevance of what you believe/

The bifrucation of a nation/
The degradation of our aspirations/
Over-stimulation, inner-isolation/
Our only point of relation is our alienation/

We're not the last to experience/
the politics of selfishness/
With their grinning zeal, their shamelessness/
Actively unmaking any difference/
How long can we tolerate this/
behind our pallid, expressionless faces?/
Apathetic to how bleak this place is if you keep us numb, painless, ever-complacent/

We find our hearts have grown cold/
Our dreams now seem so old/
Born in boxes, bought and sold/
Free to do as we're told/

Rendered voiceless by the pointlessness of our choices/
Swayed by sourceless ‎forces toward this remorseless course/

Don't you step outside the lines/
It's not worth the risk/
You'd better stitch up both your eyes/
And accept deception's kiss/

Ingrained with unnamed shame/
Stained by blame/
Driven insane, chained to the pain of mundane disdain/
‎
Owned by donors, cloned yet alone/
Unknown forces grow behind the throne/
Symptomatic of silent sickness/
Enigmatic systemic malignance/

Hard-wired to start fires and gut liars/
But uninspired by any higher than base desires/

Do these shackles match my shoes?/
Which shade of grey will I ever choose?/
Fear of an authentic life/
Strangled by spectres of prospective strife/

Lacking reflection without question/
The best-done deception wins elections/
We all have the same lack of option in our so-called sacred, symbolic selection/

Back-track to abstract practice/
In masks of status attack lesser classes‎/
Embrace debasement of faceless races/
Eraseable replacements of electoral bases/

We were hardwired to start fires and gut liars/
But we aspire to do nothing more than to simply desire/