One hundred workers on the line,
and not a thing worth living for.
Children with keys around their necks,
who aren't allowed to open the door.
Can we ignore these things away,
or can we face them without fear?
I can't find a chair to stand upon,
nor do I know why I am here.

It slips through my fingers and covers my mind,
these missing pieces we can't find.
Do we see or do we try?
We just obey and don't ask why.
It gets so far ahead of me, elusive in its obscurity.
The world is clicking in a frenzied greed,
with an empty soul it has to feed.
I stand beside and watch them bleed,
as they stab themselves for what they need.

A spiral-bound idealogy-
a logic that sells better when carmellized.
They market new flavors of the human spirit.
Can all of these elements be harmonized?
An instinct so muted we no longer hear it-
the thought-pollution we've idolized.