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Storm clouds spreading |
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Black horizons oil slick the southern sky |
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What prospects should I gather here to motivate my corpse to rise? |
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Bloodshot |
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My eyes reject the staleness of this day |
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And 'reason' gives purpose for all the pills i have to swallow |
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Driving |
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My heart is dead and hollow |
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Metal boxes racing by |
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Ringing out the death of my life |
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Machines buzzing |
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Towers looming the antithesis of nature |
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Entering this asphalt tomb- self - interest my prime dictator. |
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Now that i stand to carry the weight - try to conceive me that it's all for |
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something? |
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Now that i stand to carry the weight |
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I lie to myself...am i living-dead? |
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Four walls surround me with wires outstretched- the triumph of time over |
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space |
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The modus vivendi- each man for himself |
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Each alone |
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And each an island |
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Get me out of this hole somehow...get me out of this hole right now...my |
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great depression |
