Cassandra Syndrome

We are rusting at our hinges, we are coughing up asbestos
We are loveless, careless automated animals
Fundamentally lonesome, and socially inept
Come on, come on, come on, come on. We are as good as it gets
Always in the wrong place at the wrong, drained of our vital fluids and feeling
fine
Oh, the machines we are
Oh, the machines we are
Don’t it seem so strange what we’re willing to exchange for the world’s
attention?
It’s a failing world we’ve devised (we keep broadcasting our shame)
When we want our failures televised (cause it keeps the world entertained)
The anxiety in another’s eyes (keeps us feeling alive)
It gets us off, it gets us off
Glory be to vanity cause god’s too busy staring in the mirror
Glory be to vanity cause god’s too busy staring in the mirror
We can only settle our synthetic hearts by the sound of recoil
We determine our caliber based on how much and who we despoil
What are we, but hornets to the swarm… When only the body of a stranger keeps
us warm?
It’s a failing world we’ve devised (we keep broadcasting our shame)
When we want our failures televised (cause it keeps the world entertained)
The anxiety in another’s eyes (keeps us feeling alive)
It gets us off, it gets us off