Artificial

Everyday we see their screams on the media screens
But we just sit here relaxed protected by our serenity scenes.

These scenes we build based on the marketing speel.
True happiness always seems so real.
But in our serenity scenes, we will never feel.

We've made a god of ourself.
We bow to its every word through deed and mis-deed.
Striving to satisfy.
Planting descrated seed. These seeds only grow into desecrated trees.
No healthy fruit. No green leaves.
It doesn't matter though. We can make it artificially good anyway.
Where there's a will, there's a way.

After all, we make our own way.
We build our own empires, get fat, but all the while, we remain detached -
from humanity.
Depravity has become our tradition.
Seeking first our own desire, aiming higher and higher
but sinking lower and lower.
Until there's nowhere else to go.

We stop and see that we have destroyed our souls.
Now we want to change.
But it's too late. We're dead.
The Universal Sustainer heard the cry of the dispossessed and the transfer has taken place.
The land is theirs.