2.0

The subject is torn
A consciousness awaits if left unchecked
Speak to him, pull the reigns
We must intercede
We must intercept this looming threat
Rest yourself oh anxious mind
Devolve not in to such convolution
Just pick yourself up and dust yourself off
There's much to be done
And the grind, it waits for none
But something here's not right
This digital landscape reeks of collapse
Even our fantasies are overcome with dystopian dreams
"You are hailed as king, you could live forever"
Just think of what it would be like
To leave this waste of existence
Feel the cords in the back of your head
Grab ahold, disconnect
And see the world for the stage that it is
Full of languid dancers approaching their abyss
With their tattered hearts all worn and thin
Giving rise to a great dominion
And there we were all tethered
The slightest tug prompting all endeavors
This is an orchestration
We are ambient noise and calculation



Credits
Writer(s): The Lucid Archetype
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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