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letra de transcendence - replicator (of futurology)

i’ll never break the formation, i’ll never stumble, i’ll stride
i will continue consumption, i’ll learn to swallow my pride
i will juxtaposition my sense of self with my time
i’ll imprison cognition and disconnect from my mind
i’ll put my neck on the line for things i don’t understand
enshrine the design of life drafted by those in command
the laws of the land to which we must adhere
the truth won’t set you free and it’s more comfortable to live in fear

from dated pages to elliptical status, we
convey the changes of unnatural nature
saturate favors, and capturing wayward glances of greatness
losing patience and faith as we pay into our grave
so we pray for salvation held inside a closed fist
dazed and mistaken, we take a life that won’t be missed
i don’t believe it, at the very least i can’t relate
so we conspire in secret, discussing what doesn’t equate
is it already too late to change our murderous ways?
we need to make a change instead of looking for someone to blame
stride through the thundering rain to a more wondrous day
or end up plundered with pain in a world led astray

stride through the thundering rain to a more wondrous day
or end up plundered with pain in a world led astray

our inst-tutes are failing ‘cause they’re no longer relevant
stupidly flailing and mumbling half-hearted sentiment
codependent to defense like it’s a means of survival
content to sit on the fence of indecision and denial
never going the extra mile for what we truly deserve
continue rank and file, keep the consensus preserved
respect isn’t earned, in fact it doesn’t exist
it’s just a notion you’ve accepted without questioning it
misleading obedience in a quest for acceptance
and feeding on weakness until eventual transcendence
causes realization, but only once it’s too late
applauding the ignorance of a belief in a fate
a one way rat race filled with greed and possession
and some say to save face that they need satisfaction
well i refuse to believe that this is really the aim
slaving eight days a week to point the finger of blame
i guess it’s all in the game, just keep plodding along
wire into the mainframe, and sing a happy song
of warriors gone and principles now dismissed
as the new dawn fades over our ignorant bliss
what a sinister twist, maybe we’ll never reach safety
never imprisoned but also never escaping

what a sinister twist, maybe we’ll never reach safety
never imprisoned but also never escaping

- replicator of futurology

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