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Flesh gone soft with sedentary life
Eyes glazed over, no use for sight
No control is total control
My flesh is not my own
Absolution, or obsoletion:
the illusion of choice is yours.

Disassociate. Brain on cruise control.
Shuffle on your path. Never out of line.
Thoughts to data, and ashes to dust
Forsaken emotions and carnal lust

No reason to live. Less reason to die.
Why upset the flow of shit from ass to mouth?
Insignificant, nothing but a pawn
Useless but to serve
Never questions orders

I want to feel pain
I want to feel pleasure
And everything in between

But I will never feel any more than necessary
It’s not my job to empathize with the world around me
And I won’t be there to save you at the edge
I’m pacing through the same motions
Or juggling while the world ends

Am I repeating myself?
Am I repeating myself?
How many times will this script play out
before my time is up?
How many times will I repeat myself
until I realize you’re already gone?

I will never be a hero
I was never made to save
Puppet on strings tied up in knots
performing for a cardboard audience

And I’ll stand aside
while they pile the bodies high
Ask with a polite smile,
“Is there anything else I can help you with?”


from Born To Run In Place, released December 18, 2016



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