In this mechanized paradise
Of glass, tubes, electrical wires
We see the world from a different place
As if we are the highest culture ever known
But what we are is fallen, in barren tombs
Emptied from the first, our life is a curse
We stand over the dead flesh of the corpse
We have tired of the lies and inquisition
So tired of being told of the great fire
That burns inside the minds of scientists
But there is nothing like that here
They stopped thinking by command
There is only desolation and emptiness
Vile dreams that architects achieved
We stand knee deep in the fetid flesh
Of a world that once was vital
And now beats an inorganic beat
An anthem to the cyberlords
And masters who register our names
Replacing them with unique numbers
In an effort to tame us, to shame us
For all we did, without knowing
What we did to the others
Where are the living beasts
Now only exist in memory
Data cards and electric images
No organic wasted life forms
Complicated remains
And yet we are dust
We are nothing
No rebellion
No anger within
Our leaders speak of words
Never action
We are flesh captured by lust
Given identifying numerical tracking
So we might labor
And never be mistaken
For every other
Who looks exactly like us
There is no justice
In computers we trust
Let us worship
Our great overlords
