Blowing Glass
Mob mentality, losing identity asserting individuality. Blind devotion to subliminal degradation, mental castration and physical submission; a lifetime of incarceration, just a cog in a twisted creation.
Final solution has no resolution, it's all damnation and oblivion, the cessation of evolution.
Seeking fleeting salvation from an obvious conclusion; group inebriation, and fantastical fabrications,looping into insecure carnal relations, primate fornication, disease reproduction.
unconscious automaton gots no clue what's going on; fumbling through life until it's all gone.
Pontificating out loud how the "system" is all wrong. Sitting in a circle, and thinking from a bong. Detached from nature this horrible creature; it destroys everything since it has no place here.
You think it's fantastic that your god came wrapped up in plastic, consumer whore Franchise addict. It's all about searching for something that will make you feel anything; as long as it's done without thinking. Wide eyed but still sleeping and eating what they're feeding. No, you're not dreaming, you really are dying. Surrounded by nothing, just constantly wasting; fool yourself into thinking that you're accomplishing something. Constantly needing attention; there's no distinction of any maturation, it's just mental pollution claiming it's the new revolution. It's more like certain extinction; consumed with pretension and feigned indignation, pretending to unravel a corrupt machination. Fitting right into a cliquish equation, a simple tribe of mental abortion.
Basing self worth from television, a perpetual contradiction, words and actions are in constant opposition. Glossing over the reflection, changing the past with omissions.
Using people like it's an occupation, nothing to offer but obfuscation; no observation just constant confusion. Seeking exploitation to feed your addiction is the number one mission of your sick composition.
Final solution has no resolution, it's all damnation and oblivion, the cessation of evolution.
Seeking fleeting salvation from an obvious conclusion; group inebriation, and fantastical fabrications,looping into insecure carnal relations, primate fornication, disease reproduction.
unconscious automaton gots no clue what's going on; fumbling through life until it's all gone.
Pontificating out loud how the "system" is all wrong. Sitting in a circle, and thinking from a bong. Detached from nature this horrible creature; it destroys everything since it has no place here.
You think it's fantastic that your god came wrapped up in plastic, consumer whore Franchise addict. It's all about searching for something that will make you feel anything; as long as it's done without thinking. Wide eyed but still sleeping and eating what they're feeding. No, you're not dreaming, you really are dying. Surrounded by nothing, just constantly wasting; fool yourself into thinking that you're accomplishing something. Constantly needing attention; there's no distinction of any maturation, it's just mental pollution claiming it's the new revolution. It's more like certain extinction; consumed with pretension and feigned indignation, pretending to unravel a corrupt machination. Fitting right into a cliquish equation, a simple tribe of mental abortion.
Basing self worth from television, a perpetual contradiction, words and actions are in constant opposition. Glossing over the reflection, changing the past with omissions.
Using people like it's an occupation, nothing to offer but obfuscation; no observation just constant confusion. Seeking exploitation to feed your addiction is the number one mission of your sick composition.