Content nausea, World War Four Seems like it all came too soon Another carnage apparatus Such a dissapointing doom Ive used money, Ive used drugs Abuse body, abuse mind People use such strange excuses Always have done no clue why Most folks think and some folks know Lifes lived least when you dont let go Of a memory, of a dream Like an hometown better seen On a screen or at a distance Life lived best without resistance People clicked and people read Modern Life is what it said Pretty pictures, pretty lives I peered into once or twice Ill go back but not today Its nice to visit but its hard to stay In the grips of bad dimension Too much data, too much tension Too much plastic, Too much glass Life lived least when when fears are passed My friend he wont leave his home Says I am a bonfire of human bones I am a bonfire of human bones I am a bonfire of human bones And am I under some spell? And do my thoughts belong to me? Or just some slogan I ingested to save time? This night is missing people The sea, it had noone Hardly noone, it had shapes, it had light Some were flashing, most moved Me, I couldnt look away But still noone came or left they just stayed But they werent there in the first place Overpopulated by nothing, crowded by a sparseness Guided by darkness, too much, not enough Content, thats what youd call it An infant screaming in every room in your gut Bets strum on an intention but best left unattended How gathered the pixels in the dust of the digital age to our being With what do I wash? Put on some music My friend walks the same path every day Steep the stairwell, cognizance to coma Ignoring best he can An inconvenient reality The consequential chore that unfolds in the naked sprint from screen to screen Scrolling binary ghettos for escape for reminders And this would be a good year to free poets From the back padding dungeons of content and comments To free artists from empty and vulgar broadcasting ritual For this year it became harder to be tender Harder and harder to remember Meeting a friend, writing a letter Being lost, antique ritual All lost to the ceremony of progress Like the sensual organs removed Theyre only weighing you down, you didnt need them Ignore this part, its an advertisement These people are famous, Id trust them Protesters stayed home this time around Some enlisted, some never heard the first shots Well Ive been north and Ive been south Ive been west and Ive been east Been around long enough to know Lifes lived best when scrolling least Just a broken piece of plastic Just another new device Just another nervous habit One more thing you have to buy Just one more thing to replace One more way to block your face Too much data, Too much tension Lifes lived least when less is mentioned Wasting dollars, wasting hours Wasting talent with wasted power No one says it but its known The more connected, the more alone My friend stays at the home in the dark Never walks up to the park Always nauseous, always tired I am a landmine, wrong supplier I am a landmine
lived, bonfire, much, scrolling, least