mindless drones of cunsomer shopping lights district without direction or cause
living through scenes of rubbish tvs awaiting crowd pleased applause

a continent of actors and actresses awaiting their next filth pilot
images lasting in repetition for blank stares
darwin laughs as we drown in static channels of lost fantasy
none among us seeing anything, but taking in each flash of light
blank stares from fake people
all I want are real people
find me existence in the crowd
discover a human in a land of technology chocking robot victims
let him sing out
a voice like doves through the rubble of a bombed out city
nothing but silence and torn vocal chords
don't let him be silenced
a breathing, living animal
dig him up from innocent soils of forgotten sound
disgusts you, looking back into the abyss of a shellshock puddle
potraitless landscapes of self-indulgence
dig him up
and make him your god
ressurect him unto his image
not your false graven idols of cables and wires
destroys every screen and glass window to the electro-inhuman reality
a real human being