| Lyrics: | Let's gather 'round the carcass of the old deflated beast,
We have seen it through the
accolades and rested in its lea,
Syntactic is our elegance, incisive our disease,
The
swath endogenous of ourselves will be our quandary,
We've nestled in its hollow and
we've suckled at its breast,
Grandiloquent in attitude, impassioned yet inept,
Frivolous gavel our design, ludicrous our threat,
Excursive expeditons leave us holding less
and less,
So what does it mean?
When we tell ourselves it's only for a while
we've been deceived
And it's only for a moment that the treasures of our day
Make life
easier to complicate, the treasure thrown away,
I'm so tired of all the fucked up
minds
Of all the terrorist religions and their bullshit lines,
Of all the
hand-me-downs from all industrial crimes
All the weeping mothers and those who are led so
blind,
From the plastic protests and the hands of time
And the pursuit of mirth and
all hating kind |
