Glory-Armageddeon on the loose
Pilfered by society’s plastic noose
Crave some empty platitudes, we got that too
Sunshine-class formalities, hive mind zoo
Template-crafted niceties, vapid stew
They’ve printed out instructions but say “you be you”
Corporate-sponsored shell games to numb the truth
Fuck raw originality, love golden goose

Magic, yeah they never really had it
But we keep falling for it
Their fables systematic
With death cults for the addicts
White noise passed off as life tips
Just focus on the prize
Don’t step out of the line
It's finely tuned, sublime.


Back-flips! They never had-shit.
Just brainy tactics and flash theatrics.
To get us off their back
It’s a revolution, or is it for the cameras?
Is this thing even on ya? Missed staging your persona
Millions and millions, billions and trillions
Yet cry like they’re victims, the farce is strong with them
They care about this end: the bottom line blitz win
They’ll never hit this chin,
Fuck all your inventions of shallow conventions
Humanity stripped thin, to balance a lynchpin
Regurgitated tropes, from self righteous dopes
Keep the weak on the ropes with commoditized hope
No platform or sponsorship nope
But here’s a quick note, to all you ghouls on your boats:
Your toxic business model is dead, an antiquated-dote
Just get off our throats, and go fucking choke, we cut your tight rope.

Pop-hype hacks, ransacking the past
Keep your poisonous gas, we’ll keep our conscious in tact
It ain’t no mystery. We making history
They make no sense to me. Fuck the industry.

Gory-Armageddeon sordid leech
Trickle down egos on electric leash
Crave our empty calories, they make it sweet
Bubble-gum banalities to tame the street
Template crafted niceties, vapid treats
They’ve written out your manuals but say “keep it neat”
Corporate sponsored shell games to hide the cheats
Fuck human emotion, we consume and eat

Back-flips. They never had-shit.
Just brainy tactics. And flash theatrics.
To get us off their backs- it’s no revolution, extreme exclusion
A cult intrusion, kill all your illusions.
They just can’t stop it: it’s record profits
Keep playing the pop hits, lecturing in optics
Humanity stripped thin, to balance a lynchpin
Fuck all your inventions and shallow conventions!