Cassandra Syndrome


We are rusting at our hinges, we are coughing up asbestos
We are loveless, careless automated animals
Fundamentally lonesome, and socially inept
Come on, come on, come on, come on We are as good as it gets
Always in the wrong place at the wrong time,
Drained of our vital fluids and feeling fine
Oh, the machines we are
Oh, the machines we are
Don't it seem so strange what we're willing to exchange just for the world's attention?
It's a failing world we've devised (we keep broadcasting our shame)
When we want our failures televised (cause it keeps the world entertained)
The anxiety in another's eyes (keeps us feeling alive)
It gets us off, it gets us off
Glory be to vanity cause god's too busy staring in the mirror
Glory be to vanity cause god's too busy staring in the mirror
We can only settle our synthetic hearts by the sound of recoil
We determine our caliber based on how much and who we despoil
What are we, but hornets to the swarm,
When only the body of a stranger keeps us warm
It's a failing world we've devised (we keep broadcasting our shame)
When we want our failures televised (cause it keeps the world entertained)
The anxiety in another's eyes (keeps us feeling alive)
It gets us off, gets us off







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