My life Charred remains of a flame that's burned out My lips move but they won't make a sound I stand motionless, eyes to the ground Back for more With
You own the stations and it's one against one Turn it up or get it off You've got the power and the money and the guns So what's the deal ? it's only
This isn't for you This isn't for you I speak in tounges Teen face for the dream date That girl wears black jeans Paint it all black Yea paint it all
Electric eyes, keep track of what I'm doing Extensive index files knows my way Before I'm movin' And they get the picture developed before it's taken
The end of the daydream The end of the side The end of relations The end of my mind The end of the shoreline The end of the heat The end of the cold The
Let's go Wanted: Strong and able-bodied worker Minimum wage Fifty-eight hour week An average joe from the grand design He breaks his back for big talk
A telepathic line to a shadow On the wall, just a passenger and that is all Taking off on a midnight flight The airline ticket in his hand held tight
Well, I can't make love To the girls in this city 'Cause the girls Say I abuse them And I won't go out With girls because Girls will fall in love with
When you're out on the street, he's a face in the crowd He's a voice in the back, and he's never very loud In a tribal mask, or a business suit He'll
tax, eat ya up like a kit kat Don't even riff back, I ain't with that Skillful sharp with the words of an index Spark and glow mc's like windex Swifter
Working, these bodies unconscious, all slaving for a lifetime with nothing to show. Hours injected, with years invested, for these martyrs with a dying
March of the animals the indication of a time where the passion of man is lived through fiction feed off of the bottom line let entertainment be the last
Sleepwalking through our spoon-fed lives... As evidence of times before in chapters long forgotten the reotting tombs of history are written by the victors
One time, the last rendition, too long I've sacrificed, dead stones in walls of freedom, built high with filth and vice, so blind you walk into their
Commodify the vision and sanctify the rape with moral antidotes wide awake and dead, we consumate the bond, stomach tied in knots, driving class relations
Out of the past, fall the bodies That have come before me Following your path They're just slaves, in need of life No ending in sight The rape of another
Thrust into this competition naked and undone Back to back yet divided on our own Fear breeding fear exploding pressures on we're locked away in self-
The culmination of decades inside the machine, where production processes continually reinvent a fabricated reality. Inviting creative destruction for