Like expressive astronomy, neon noise pollution
helps the navigation of the midnight revolution
a lost sea of never was and could have been
Lied to, bet against, and covered in sin
Generation lost
But look what they found
Not so much hope and a shade left of green
can’t help that everything turns mean
verse is walking with rhythm, attracts the worm
the beat of the new mind only knows free form
the game is rigged
playing is how you lose
keep chasing the rabbit
all you do is finish
we tripped on truth while trippin
we slipped on salvation while the cock crowed thrice
there is no meaning of life when you put it in those terms
as an organism, survival trumps hearts
get it as you get breath
naturally
I came to my senses and had a feeling
maybe how we turn isn’t how we burn but how we learn
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