Paralyzed by your gaze,
I realize too late that
this is really happening.
It's happening.
Things happen, things are
changing, all of the time.
And in all your youth, and prime,
you forgot that time is limited.

Morphing, contorting, we're conforming,
phantom remnants of each other,
we all hover along the line
of law and crime,
forever wavering like flames in the wind,
for as long as we sin
our generation will never win.

Cultured, robotic slaves,
the only way she behaves is on Ritolin,
and why do it yourself, when you have
a search engine?
We're searching in
the wrong places,
and our faces are becoming the same,
technology came and murdered out imagination.
Imagine nations without it.

Raised by computers,
so the only language we know is IM,
and I am so sick of LOL's and OMG's,
Please can't you see you're killing me?
I need to breathe some life in this art,
make some light in this dark
for my generation to follow.
Before our heads and our hearts become hollow.
Before we're dead,
and there is no tomorrow.