Dark,bleak days are coming, darker yet ahead,
Would say I am sorry, but won't 'cause I'll be dead.

Sour land below us and angry sky above,
And those who seek to control us, have morons sell us love.

We've severed the connections, not our fault we didn't mean,
We're under the protection of almighty mobile screen.

I'd rather I was mental, I'd rather that  I was gone,
In the world that ***** on metal, I cannot be or belong.

I know the tastes wildly differ, and can tear people apart,
But I'll never ever consider, to consume that which you call art.