Bacteria.
Microbes in a petri dish.
That’s what I see when I look upon you.
Skeletons, walking corpses.
Lizards and monkeys.
When will it dawn on you?
Miniscule, insignificant, ashes to ashes.
Taste like charcoal.
The suffering accrued.
At the peak of absurdity, cynicism and the lot.
Substantially, fundamentally broken.
It’s inconsequential.
All that shit you fought for.
Just a token, to celebrate insanity.
It’s inconsequential.
Loss and gain, revolving door.
Like clockwork.
Wheels and gears.
Rage for the machine.
Queers and steers.
Short and lean.
Flies buzzing around disillusioned flesh.
Content with consensual coma.
Consensus and soma.
33 degrees, and a worthless diploma.
Sustained by blissful ignorance.
Cognitive dissonance.
Only your captors know you well.
It’s inconsequential.
All that shit you fought for.
Just a token, to celebrate insanity.
It’s inconsequential.
Loss and gain, revolving door.
Like clockwork.
Bastards and prostitutes.
Puppets and radical elements.
Criminals and crazies.
God took a shit.
Meatheads and limp wrists.
Burn the writ.
Were it so simplistic.
Value applied is value lost.
Polite identity holocaust.
Dye your hair or shave your head, feels as though you’re better off dead.
Fill your coffers or share your bread.
It’s inconsequential.
All that shit you fought for.
Just a token, to celebrate insanity.
It’s inconsequential.
Loss and gain, revolving door.
Like clockwork. -Michael Ament
STÖK 