Sullen, I loom forth into the microcosm,
Exuberant voices abound
I hear their scrapings of life,
Falling, into infinity
Knowledge is understanding,
And not truth
Truth is the myth that mocks us
Verification, the addendum of nothing
Paradoxical irony
The fools, content to live as numbers
What is it, that holds their attention,
So far from the innate questioning?
Where do they live?
The infinity of wisdom could not scour
The shit from their eyes
Their will, sold for security
This world, bathed in the filth of stupidity
Retarded humans, etching out their predetermined frameworks,
Created as a pathetic excuse for the unfounded purpose
My disconsolateness reigns supreme
For mine shall be hidden
I speak so that time may know I have spoken,
And not so that time is lost within my speech
Throughout the silence, I nurture the unspoken words
Intransigent predator
Look to your numbers And you shall be my prey!
[Lyrics - Greg ,1996]
[Music - Simon, 1995 / 96]