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It appears that we have reached the edge

That zenith where stimuli and comatose collide

Forty years ago the man proclaimed

The age of the gross to be upon us

And even though the man was destroying our heritage

And insulting our intelligence

That era has become very real

We labor for pleasure and abhor the guilt of pressure

My generation will go down as the architects

Of contemporary disgust

Some have fought and died

Others have allowed the strong to be butchered for a price

They themselves don't care about and will never understand

I myself am beleaguered by the selfish face

Of a kind of man that is not mankind

Distrust in information

Fundamentalism of opinion

Catastrophic boredom and a fanatical devotion

To that which does not matter

Where is your glory now, people?

Where are your Gods and politicians?

Where is your shame and salvation?

You rage for no reason because you have no reason

What have you ever fought for?

What have you ever bled for?

The face of the earth is scarred with the walking dead

The age of the gross is a living virus

This is the future you have created

This is the world you have set ablaze

All your lies are coming true

All freedom is lost, all hope is gone

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