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Once you pass into my space, you continue inside the cubicle that sits atop my neck. Slipping into my consciousness, you say to yourself:
"We live in decadent, decadent times," I tell you.And, you wonder to yourself, "Will I contribute to my generation being as lame as the one before me?"
Look at yourself! Look in the mirror… is it the same old routine? Do you know what I mean?
Are you going to come clean? Or, have you become one with the machine? Do you have any idea what it is I mean?
Welcome to the ma-sheeeeeene. Are you coming clean?
Do you know what I mean?
You thought it couldn't… it couldn't happen to you. Now, here you are… caged in their zoo.
interlude for pondering
Do you know what I mean? Will you ever, ever come clean?
You're part of their machine.
The home of the free. The land of the brave. If not for you… but, for me?
better ponder some more
Do you have any idea?