no more stars and no more nights
no more oceans and no more skies
can we please cut out with all these poetic nonsense?
someone like you needs no metaphors
because you are already an art in human form

you see, there is no trick nor magic
no hallucinations nor deceptions
we are no victims of a ploy, but of our own foolery
this is a nightmare transmogrifying into reality
ladies and gentlemen, you've just witnessed
the greatest illusion of our dystopia

the sky is nothing but a farce. a crayola drawing from some children's figment of imagination. an amalgam of cardboard and paper cut-outs.
and if it's the thin line that separates mortality from divinity
then i'm willing to kindle flames and set it on heavenly fire.

the sky is nothing but a farce. a crayola drawing from some children's figment of imagination. an amalgam of cardboard and paper cut-outs.
and if it's the thin line that separates mortality from divinity
then i'm willing to kindle flames and set it on heavenly fire.

gone were the steel in his bones and legions in his skull.
gone were the marrow-like rebars reinforcing his skeleton.
he doesn't have an engine for a heart,
and neither were there bolts and cranks and nuts inside it.
he is no cyberpunk hero.
he isn't a creature straight out from your sci-fi movies.
he is a rational character in this enormity called reality
and no.
his skin isn't made up of platinum platings.
try to cut it, and you'll see the crimson blood seeping out.
believe me, i've tried it once.
and never pretend that you don't know what he is.
because at heart,
you know that
he is just a human