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Existence, the poetry of the flesh Which we will trust from conception to dust Just another body, a temple of shit Filled with the trash that we dump in it This house possessed with sins of the flesh Instinctive desire to procreate, multiplying our mess Another series of holes of which we're to fill Mortal receptacles pumped full of seminal swill A familiar stranger To walk this earth is to always be in danger A complete and utter objectification of a sentient being An earthly trait of intellectual superiority Born in a hate manger Lined with extreme angst And a broken chemistry That familiar stranger Mourning our minds With an answer to the riddle you'll never find Fertile are the loins of the earth The soil tomb to which we return Letras de cancionesSharpened societal femurs Our swords to fall on What makes you think you're so sublime Among the others that are standing in line? Waiting for their time We are only vessels that leave a stain that lasts forever The toppled cup of skin that spills a poison with no half measure We, we are only bodies Survived by guilt and the neurosis of entitlement Like insects So are the days of our lives With a vastly finite duration With eons of habitual infestation But I, I'm just a body Alive but rotting A storm of flies That hides behind these eyes I'm just a body Eight billion like me Burning our hive Scorched alive And you, you're just a body Flesh-lined tragedy Dead but alive Remembering a time Within our lives In our history Life in our prime A fiction of the mind Lying to ourselves, blind We are just bodies Insect parodies Burning our hive Remembering the crime That is our lives That's our history Life in our prime Reflection of a time Where all is left behind From Letras Mania