Thoughts of my woes never really were contemplated
upon reflection, this thing we are all do is fated
to fall on our laps. I was opened armed, I was blind
even though I could see, finding myself easily confined.
It was like I was strapped to a tree and then pulped
reformed to a thousand paper cuts. I was sculpt
in to the form i see now, I was a servant
while those that were calculatingly observant.
Less is more on the thoughts of a subliminal message,
could one even see that which was feed, a presage
of there controlling. we are woven into this false
motion, confused by the continuous waltz.
I wore no chains no mark upon my supple flesh,
but this was a different kind, woven in unseen mesh.
I was drowning in air, i was sinking in depression
I'm enslaved with no evidence, only my confession.
Money the new slave of the human condition
