Who kept track of the hours? Who kept track of the days? That we wasted away, nothing to say, nothing to do But to portray versions of ourselves of how we'd like to be, how we'd like to be seen But the bitter truth is we've breathed new life into the meaning of insincerity Reason, a concept of the past Improve and adapt, or be forever the outcast Coaxed and coerced in mock-genuinity Down fall our social standards by mass-stupidity This is now our reality A visceral machine, a breeding entity Shut the blinds, worship the screen of virtual substance and our mind's decline And we dare call this the era of enlightenment This is now our reality A visceral machine, a breeding entity Shallow vessels pave the way for young minds to be led astrayTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
