This song is to ear as candiru is to cock
The bland display elicits beige response
Regurgitated talking points for a like-minded audience
Ad nauseam
Adopt a posture
Apply aggression
The moon still came out tonight
I haven't changed anything
Candles all go out
Breath abandons lung
The waves still push and pull
Still you haven't changed anything
The tired lines of us
With ashen foreheads
Remember you are dust
And to dust you shall return
Some cosmic satirist
With space as page and stars as ink
Kills off your character
Still the inspiration drips
Sit in a circle
Naked and eager
We all take turns pretending
We say anything important
Learn to tell the difference
Between white noise and applause
A universal eye roll
And how we all tire of
My masquerading
As an "artist"
The sun cares not for "art"
It will rise and fall regardless
There is no message of the profound
In any top from which I spout
A jargo-cum-monument built with self in mind
Mosaic of erections rise in perfect sync with jurisdiction
Or lack thereof
The influence
A serpent swallowing its tail
An endless loop
There is no old, young, in between
Just flesh in constant state of change
There is no reason for this song
The impetus is blossomed on instinct's pink, electric soil
History is luxury
A serpent swallowing it's tail
An endless loop
After _____ years of eyes shut, stumbling
There's one thing I've come to understand
How bought and sold you are
How bought and sold I am
With bland, adult geometry
The self strung flaccid between two states suspended
Each limb tied onto a different horse
That which once showed me its bed
Now shows me the door
Foul jest in passing
So stop me if you've heard this one:
"My thoughts on faux expression
For lack of a more eloquent term
The capital speaks now
In faked orgasm smirk"
Save applause for the end
A circle has none
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
