What is the capacity of our lives? How much shit can we fit to satisfy the fetish Of material commodities Possession, the ruler of happiness I can't resist the overindulgence in this shit In order to truly understand our ridiculousness I would have to been stripped Taken away from my ever growing mountain of bits It's not just a disorder of the rich It's nearly American to be stuck in this ditch Even when the majority is living in the pits At what fucking point can we agree that we really have enough? As the mountain forges upward, we suffocate in an abundant heap of our own chattels Assets like a drug, to satisfy Sufficiency is a dream The modern perception of adequacy is a fucking disgust Desire is an infinite void with out borders that can never fulfill the eternal lust If only we could see the boundaries Perhaps we would be able to draw the line to separate what we truly need Self-gratification seems to come wrapped in plastic With a price tag on it and every fucking store seems to have it We are told to soak it up To keep a full cup And this is considered a blessing What the fuck?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
