Born under the array, we must have supposed ourselves computers
Esoteric notions of Illuminism made their way, even
Into the minds of the ignorant
By way of osmosis.

The roar of society's innards amplified,
An image of human digestion made confusing half-art
In the naked sky.

This folded into neat, convenient little quanta
But the world could not hide the ugly truth:
The climate was one of dissonance, and insanity
And clinging for its couth.

Although, just like in the old symphonies--
Moments of sweetest major harmony swell up
And we find islands of peace.

From whence, I wonder, do we build a better world?

Born on the grid. Born with new potential.
Born to deeper illusions, deeper lies.
Born of a *****.

Human rivers clamber over each other
The needs and the circumstances threaten cataclysm
And readier cataclysm breeds an ultraviolet paranoia, this time.

We are the children of the new millenium.
We are lost, we are scoffed at, we are confused.
We are disbelievers, we are disoriented, we are ...true.
We are petty, we are extra, we are amused and not amused.
Change the world, slap a sticker, make it new.