There’s a new kind of preposterous game
That keeps growing
In insidious circles
That we seem to like
It’s the gathering of vultures
The branding of the future
It’s the incoming voice
We hear when we don’t want to
I aim to draw closer
From the true calling of my nature
I just wish we all would see the light
We are easy to follow, easy to prey on, we suck.
The marching band leads us in a grueling dance
That echoes through nothing and feels like a trap
As the mystery men enchant us with their ads
We parade as puppets, blending in the mass
I’d love to be better than
The army of proud fools and followers
But there’s no going back from the delight
We are eager to swallow, and easy preys we are shite
Some time ago I started in this place I’ll call the GAP
A big cocoon of vanity for us to feel just right
If history tells anything it tells we like to be
In a climate for misanthropy, an agony for thoughts
I would like to be set aside
If I had the courage to leave it’d be gone in an hour
It’s the sugar on my toothbrush the nailing on my cross
The shitting on my coffee, the mushroom on my crotch
It’s neighborhood watchdog that’s pissing on my porch
The yoga pants on heavy girls, the alarm on my clock
