Opiate For The Masses
Virus H
Everything's connected-The cell, the sun in the sky-I don't know why we suck up everything and still we're born to die.We seem to have benevolence of a saint,But our intentions are quite plain:We only think about ourselves, so this is how it will remain.Yesterday I looked into my hands and wondered whyI only give what I excrete;But to whom do I apologize?And then I realized there's only one big world to fix, butScare the hell out of me.If they made a bandage large enough,It might conceal the painWhile our children's cancer from the sun is washed with acid rain.We seem to have benevolence of a saint,But our intentions are quite plain:We only think about ourselves, so this is how it will remain.We are not invincible-not indestructible.We cannot appraise ourselves if everythings is so mundane.
From Letras Mania