The Construction of Ultrarealism

Depthless clouds, sugar filled head
Ignorant indulgence, average crowd
Mirage in the middle of a business center
Find consumption paradise in this destructive paradigm

Sky-scraping windows, killing the air, lasers penetrating brains
Like a pulsing AI machine, our pyramidal brilliance runs manipulative campaigns
As a sunrise cries
The virus spreads as victorious

And we say we live

Fight this fire, with white hot fire
We're running out of time
It's not guaranteed we'll be americans tomorrow
No one knows where we'll be tomorrow

Sometimes I feel like the moon will crash into me
And I'll feel the earth explode beneath

The foundation of this home
The towers we've constructed
And the people who submit to it
Am I really any different?

Why don't you

Fight this fire, with white hot fire
We're running out of time
It's not guaranteed we'll be Americans tomorrow
No one knows where we'll be tomorrow



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