Soundtrack to the Personal Revolution
Album - 22 january 2002 - Debaser id 31717

Consume. Defecate. Consume again.
Hollow and empty. Consume.
And this is where we're at.
Running in reverse.
I'll tell you what you need to be through what you own.
Through what controls your mind, your life.
Define yourself in my holy image.
The things you own end up owning you.
A seance of aesthetic brotherhood.
Fortitude not for the good for your soul
From IKEA nesting, to sound investing,
to temp jobs that define what we are.
A dime a dozen, hope is dead.
Work towards nothing.
Groth means nothing if it defines human life by what you can buy.
Give up your life.
Or what is left of your life.
Give up you life. Let go. I'm losing it.
I'm pulling my hair out tring to figure out what couch defines me as a person?
This is madness. This is hopelss.
My perfect little habitat and I still don't know myself.
Hope is sold in your head.
Residing in your head.
Existing only in your head.
Working for the economy.
But is this working for you?
You're running stride is just to keep the pace.
AND I WATCH THIS BURN YOU ALIVE.
Burn you alive. Burn your life. Bury you life.
You are all my children now.
Consumption: identity.
Function: Consuming again.

And this is where I'm supposed to be impressed, isn't it?
Let me tell you how overwhelmed I am.
Remind me to be in awe of you.
Remind me to lie. Remind me to smile.
Remind me to do anything but to express what's on my mind.
Because the truth might shake your stable ground.
You know this show is dark and drab,
and what you're saying doesn't brighten things much.
I don't care how fucking great your band is.
"You're so good. You're a god. I'm so impressed of what you've become."
I would be pleased if it meant something real to you.
Just walk away.
This is image and from my angle what you're doing doesn't blow my hair back.
No, I'm not moved. No reason to pay it any mind.
I don't care. I'd be pleased if it was something real to you.
But intil then I don't care. I don't care.
No reason at all for me to waste my time. None.

I'm afraid you failed this term.
We can meet again on my terms.
You don't quite make the grade.
Your pleas, your opinions do not mean a thing.
You preen yourself in the eyes of all.
One call and it all comes down.
Your insolence. Your world of you.
One call and we'll watch it come down.
(One call and we'll watch it all come down).
I swear I'll make that call.
I swear- Nothing makes sence like nonsence.
It this life, you are kind, Bumbled, not.
What you've got to give is not what I want to receive.
Seven years to forgive?
I'll give you seven seconds to get out.
You gave me seven years of neglect.
I'll give you seven seconds to get out. (today).
It doesn't work that way. It doesn't work.
I've left you behind liek a fucking ticket
and that shit is never getting paid. Never.