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Let′s gather round the carcass of the old deflated beast
We've seen it through the accolades and rested in its lea
Syntactic is our elegance, incisive our disease
The swath endogenous of ourselves will be our quandary
We′ve nestled in its hollow, and we've suckled at its breast
Grandiloquent in our attitude, impassioned yet inept
Frivolous gavel our design and ludicrous our threat
Excursive expeditions leave us holding less and less
So what does it mean?
When we tell ourselves, it's only for a while, we′ve been deceived
And it′s only for the moment that the treasures of our day
Make life easier to complicate, the treasure thrown away
I'm so tired of all the fucked up minds
Of all the terrorist religions and their bullshit lies
Of all the hand-me-downs from all industrial crimes
Of the weeping mothers and those led so blind
By the plastic protests and the hands of time
And the pursuit of mirth and all hating kind
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Writer(s): Jay Bently Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
