Spirits leaving
wasting, fading
craving action
constant breeding

moving on by no will
and by weakening pulse
no more rush to be felt
no new songs to be sung

spirits leaving
wasting, fading
craving action
constant breeding

cruising through datafog
knowing what to expect
no more rush to be felt
no new songs to be sung

(there's) nothing more to state or say
all the senses emptied out
nothing more to fill the lines with
all excitement gone and lost

same old shit
same stupid ideas circling on and on
same stupid people, community of bleak

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