Mr. Presentwriter
We're in veins, you're too plain
We're ain't in rainbows, unhappy again
I found a way, they found a way
We found a way to find the way
Mr. Presentwriter you should get to know you're imperfect
I've talk to the good ol' wise Professor Tempus
He's always there when you ask about past-time
We're dots on a world map
Dots from the sky
We're lightning spots being watched
We're fictions viewed from God
We're history frames in an undone book
Well, that's for us something new
Or something we knew?
We talk about weather, we talk about sports
We're in the courts, judged for homicide
Commiting suicide and genocide
We think we're illuminate, but we love hate
We vaccinate, but we're too late
We're filthy like a hick, and we are sick
We need the cure, we're the flue
We flue this world, we infect our own Earth
Our fingers are made of dead skin cells
Dust, insanity - a growing purgatory with non-alarming bells
Broken nails with lambency and ruffled features
From reality to christianity by immunity
In this box, pondering 'bout legacy
The thinking mankind is deputy...
We're ain't in rainbows, unhappy again
I found a way, they found a way
We found a way to find the way
Mr. Presentwriter you should get to know you're imperfect
I've talk to the good ol' wise Professor Tempus
He's always there when you ask about past-time
We're dots on a world map
Dots from the sky
We're lightning spots being watched
We're fictions viewed from God
We're history frames in an undone book
Well, that's for us something new
Or something we knew?
We talk about weather, we talk about sports
We're in the courts, judged for homicide
Commiting suicide and genocide
We think we're illuminate, but we love hate
We vaccinate, but we're too late
We're filthy like a hick, and we are sick
We need the cure, we're the flue
We flue this world, we infect our own Earth
Our fingers are made of dead skin cells
Dust, insanity - a growing purgatory with non-alarming bells
Broken nails with lambency and ruffled features
From reality to christianity by immunity
In this box, pondering 'bout legacy
The thinking mankind is deputy...
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