1. |
Misplaced Misanthropy
03:38
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Spawned into a riddled world without a clue
Sometime after the cooling of the primordial brew
But our primitive instincts remain
And the vestiges of our ancestries are so remotely stained
I used to always wonder why no one looked me in the eye
Or stopped for a second just so see if I’m alright
I then realized that I’ve never done that for anyone…
The world owes me no affection
And I don’t believe that anyone plays a part
We’re static characters with no conviction
This cynical mind comes from a programmed heart
Inherited moral fibers haunt our every move
As we march towards extinction to an infectious groove
To be an ancient serf that works the self
Life is too short to concern ourselves - with anybody else
Somewhere deep inside I think we all feel the shame
But when the guilt is gone the victim complex remains
We wear the message on our sleeves -
“Pay attention to me”
But the world owes me no attention
And I don’t believe that anyone plays a part
We’re static characters with no convictions
This cynical mind comes from a programmed heart
Our debased nature’s encoded in sedimentary stone
But the mason has absconded and his absence is bemoaned
You can confect one moral set...
How did we get so perfect?
The world owes me no affection
And I don’t believe that anyone plays a part
We’re static characters with no conviction
This cynical mind comes from a programmed heart
I owe the world no affection
And I don’t believe there’s any parts to play
From our genes, we can allow no defection
It’s just misanthropy misplaced
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2. |
Theologian's Waltz
03:37
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3. |
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Torn straight from
An ambivalent mother’s breast
And handed armaments
Committed to offense
Administered the final test
And his shards
Swept under the mortcloth rug
Draw blood from barren feet
His brief tenure is now complete
Heartstrings pulled down with a tug
We’re breaking them in
We’re breaking them in
To survive they must know discipline
So we’re breaking them in
The distaff spits
And weaves the bonds that truss her inert mind
Keep her out of the loop
Keep her easy to dupe
Tossed out with the other rinds
Her time has passed
Doled out to the virile kind
Without a shred of hesitance
Surrendering her precedence
By our passive design
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