The future is an abyss
Every pure inch moulded by one sculpture
Into another sculpture,
Identical in every sense, your identity stolen,
Manufactured, mundane, hollow, useless,
Identical in every sense, your identity stolen,
Manufactured, mundane, hollow, useless,
Discarded, for he is just another mould under the sky,
Rain, hail, sleet, snow, the burning sun.
Rain, hail, sleet, snow, the vicious tornado.
The cycle doesn't stop.
The stress, the strain, the fatigue, the fracture.
In the world of royalties, we are but petty platitudes
So utterly ordinary, so menacingly boring
A versine curve upside down, is still just that
Twice as fast as what was supposed to be, and twice as tall,
But at what price?
Here I tell you the story of my archaic adventures,
Quite run-of-the-mill, I hear you say.
Bear with me, dear friends, the story is just beginning.
Rain, hail, sleet, snow, the vicious tornado.
The cycle doesn't stop.
The stress, the strain, the fatigue, the fracture.
In the world of royalties, we are but petty platitudes
So utterly ordinary, so menacingly boring
A versine curve upside down, is still just that
Twice as fast as what was supposed to be, and twice as tall,
But at what price?
Here I tell you the story of my archaic adventures,
Quite run-of-the-mill, I hear you say.
Bear with me, dear friends, the story is just beginning.
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