Controller roller coaster
off the rails
down some off-beaten
path in a forest full of broken trails

****** nails bent and broken
down a splintered cross
just to find out we're wrong
and that we can't be our own boss

We'll cut our losses and plug back in
But what does it matter then?
If all that was me is so deeply flawed,
Then what is this ground worth that I've clawed?
They say to throw my hands up
and give it all to God

I'll be the machine man made
of flesh and guilty bones
ruled by brightly burning images
from screens in comfy homes

Charcoal grills and girls on fire for *******
and a head full of guilty pleasures
Life in a loveless void of
meaningless madness
sadness
and half measures

But I am the machine
man made for fleshy,
guilty pleasures
and something else entirely
sleeps at the wheel…
phoning in direction
and they run me.
Im automatic….