All this sunshine
And these branches
With leaves and overflowing juices
Saps and morning dew
Surround the bricks
And the polished steel
Of content frigid happiness
Boxes
All these boxes
With things we must do
And rules for obtaining perfection
All this liberty
With obligatory attachments
And abstinence
Beauty
All this gold plated beauty
Bought with fruits and flesh
Fresh blood and bodies every month
All this necessity
This war on voices
Speaking out of turn
And living out of tune
Voices
All these voices
All this unspoken nausea
From breathing imitated air
Between designer chairs
And eating love made slow food
Made by soulless unloving people
Love
All this hollow propaganda
Designed to numb
To tell the critics they're dumb
Until they, too, succumb
To the same ideals
As the rest