terça-feira, 13 de abril de 2010
Can't you feel their pale hands deep down your mind?
Twisting feelings, changing choices, ideias.
The beam from the tube crushing your abstract mind, printing their books on the back of your skull.
Too much television, too much pop music. Too little true laughter, too little true love in your arms.
Can't live without style, you choose to be fooled even when you claim: No, I won't be fooled again.
You're another peasent living at the cost of others, eating the flesh off someone who is just as scared as you are. No matter who you are, who you are with, in this plan you are all alone. Not even God will give his grace to a little splinter such as you, such as us. For we damn ourselves at each selfish act. Our ideals are fake, our voices aren't heard. The ink from what we picture now feeds gouls and skeletons, old habitants of dark memories. Certain things you hope to one day forget. But not me, not these hopless words, this sad writen revolution. All of this, is going to be forgoten in a minute, by you, by me, by God.
There you are, just another dark spot on Earth's face, a little rat ready to be extinguished. In the end, there isn't much you can do. In the end, the diference you've made, or belive you have, is just as big as your ego. It won't last half a generation. So why bother?
You have been manipulated for years, and you knew it.
You were trone into fire and stone, and you enjoid it
You cried your sins dawn out, until you could let go.
..Let me go.
We are brain washed every day, and we don't care.
Simply don't bother at all, you don't actually need education, forget about social security, just leave the rest of us alone and wait until the hotel has vacancy.