| Methods of restriction are now fully automated | |
| Used to make you feel safe inside your world but now you hate it, | |
| Bloated not sated, gazing sorrowfully from a wreck that you created | |
| Abject loss, I cannot navigate it. | |
| With the innocent energy of a kids sublime creation, | |
| He's a flying levitator conjured by subjugation. | |
| He is here to relish the fear, combatative poise transfixed to tear | |
| At natures ward, from ground to air. | |
| Devastating mind controlling generals and presidents | |
| Effortlessly still evading avalanching evidence | |
| He ascertains the power is spreading | |
| Reveals genetic codes unthreading | |
| Each and every man and woman | |
| Grasping out to armageddon | |
| Leveraging living costs till infrastructures hemorrhage | |
| Terrified consensus crushing all seditious elements | |
| Making and wasting life with his broken apparatus | |
| The event is overrated, shapes defined by saturation | |
| Technospeak and doublespeak which at its best is incomplete | |
| How alive now he can feel from his world he sits concealed | |
| To fully hide the motives in this all consuming losing streak | |
| Testing danger to reveal how his fate has been sealed | |
| Rise, seize, question, | |
| The world is the will of the sentient. | |
| A catalogue of dialogue, prosaic administrators | |
| Rejecting, taking steps to break the monotonous sound breakers | |
| Zoning into striking distance inking the words of careful choice | |
| Divining light, increasing insight returning to the voice | |
| First world dictators, shadow players, widow makers. | |
| A black nimbus rolling out across the acres. | |
| Transparent greed and hoarding, sick clutching, grasping essence in dead method, | |
| Time to learn your first and only lesson. | |
| Rise, seize,question, | |
| The world is the will of the sentient. | |
| And it lives no matter what you put it through, | |
| Rest assured the conviction is bulletproof, | |
| It dismantles the cloaking revealing you | |
| Better hope that your new shroud is bulletproof | |
| Class divisions, roles played out in open prisons. | |
| 'Is this my decision' outside the loop you may have visions. | |
| Spoilt children, in some broken re-enactment, | |
| Yes you will be culpable for each and every action. | |
| This pining virtuosity a condition you hate | |
| Living is the feeling, temporal is the living | |
| Time is the restriction, if nothing is beyond | |
| Your holding on your body is your bond |
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