Match, Light, Schematics

Last Perfection

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    The straight forward stares of nine million empty faces
    Amputated hands from their wrists so they can never grab at the
    Sky
    And i fucking hate you
    The way you never feel satiation
    The mouths are full but the mind is weak
    So please distract with useless toys
    Like thousands of tiny little time bombs ticking
    The man with no face onctinues to dig circles around his eyes that still take no shape
    A funeral procession of fake rubber dolls marches the cirty streets
    Staring at the walls
    You will take it to the grave
    This education
    Never live it down this humiliation
    Educate
    Humiliate the simple minds with simple plans
    An endless line that begins at the factory doors
    Everyone with their hands cupped
    Thanking the creator for the little bits they think they own
    Unaware that the world is collapsing all around them
    Because their only concern is their self-absorbed lego kingdoms
    And ideas of a perfect sitcom life
    Match
    Light
    Watch them burn
    And you know the sun could never be bright enough for you
    As long as there are still stars left in the sky for you to grab
    With greedy hands
    Numb to the burn of emptiness

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