Drinking words from a bone catheter
Without consistence
Tasting dominance as an appetizer
Ambitious platters spiced with numbers
My thoughts wander as I stare at the talking fish...
Giving sound advices on how to silence my dish.
Billions of living paintings for the greedy
In this summit of foam
Invited by naughty titans in their inhuman museum
Feasting fools on a monstrous path
Feasting fools in a soiled bubble bath...
Table is set for tragedy
A misshapen mole in the face of decency.
Feasting fools on a monstrous path
Feasting fools in a soiled bubble bath...
A misshapen mole in the face of decency.
Cybernetic fairies in loss of power
Crushed by the work-till-death project
Sick as wingless birds
Skewered on a numeric stake.
Look, the synthetic clown is smiling
And the children are starving
Ludicrous pawn of despotic tramplers
Industrial monsters...
Industrial monsters, jaws ripping the very fabric
Of this physical existence.
Billions of living paintings for the greedy
In this summit of foam
Invited by naughty titans in their inhuman museum
Feasting fools on a monstrous path
Feasting fools in a soiled bubble bath...
Table is set for tragedy
A misshapen mole in the face of decency.
Feasting fools on a monstrous path
Feasting fools in a soiled bubble bath...
A misshapen mole in the face of decency.
Elegant jackets
Dragon-skin style;
Mandrake cigars
Fathering tiny storms
Of snobbism,
Fresh cemetery juice
And electro-nerves
Floating rubber things.
High-educated horned giants
Worshiping shallow luxuries
Boiling with a vain intensity
Just staring at the
Cyclic visual feast.
Just standing now in the middle of a past
Marble still in the dead zone
The cemetery walking over me
And I wonder...
Descending to visualization vault XYZ After an exquisite dinner
Holographic sceneries depicting the All
So many lives...
Frames no more, captured by digital
Invisible bonds, but still such nice colors...
A juggling feat for the eaters,
A struggling beat for the wired.
Are they stones or are they names?
Am I stoned or just ashamed?
Just a human with respect in his pockets
Let the Grim be aware,
I won't be reaped...
Without guarantees...
I like my eggs boiled and that's it.
Cybernetic fairies in loss of power
Crushed by the work-till-death project
Sick as wingless birds
Skewered on a numeric stake.