letra de xviii. sleep - masakari
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we watched as you sold your flesh for an abstract deity of hollow traces
how quick you were to forget the need for authenticity
empty form replaces reality through fantasy of a public gaze
devoid of any content once the curtains raised
its complacency that familiarity breeds and we are just as much to blame
we all sleep and wait for the all abrasive hand of control to surface
the commodity fetish, an all consuming want for nothing
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