Roll forth the dice, the hourglass tipped Conformity reigns, soon enough the hammer hits Imagination crushed, where brilliance once thrived Predictably they'll serve, as worker bees beneath the hive
Assembly-line indoctrination Like heads of cattle herded home Some might call them pioneers Reality would call them drones
Funneled out fast, from classroom to cancer Disciples at play, so bland, yet so sincere Pharmacy-fueled, cavorting as fake friends Whittled down dull, to shallow, uncreative ends
Work, play and reproduction The three pronged trident-spear Impaling deep in wisdom's head How quickly youth can disappear
Atrophy as institution...dead
Siphon the lifeblood, extract the untapped Children resolved to uninspired epitaphs Follow their footsteps, vomit their concepts Thrown out the front door, fed off to the waiting wolves
Refine their tunnel vision, the best is left unseen Usher their role as ciphers, tin soldiers bound to the machine
Racing to the end...
Salivating tongues, lycanthropic scents Detect their future pawns, managers and malcontents Open doors shut, the canopy is caved Servility enshrined, next stop: the open graveTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
