Cold Comfort

Extreme real dream
Perpetually hammering
Moving pictures around
Some smell of industry
Don’t know what’s happening
Something fills me up with greed
I feel cloned
Yes, I am home
Order forms originals
Same shit a million times
Equal products compete
With each other for to breathe
Never leave
A stable existence
Fixed fragments
Of a single entanglement
Maintain a constant pulse beat
Close to the environment
Planet me
Rotation
So necessary neverending clarity
Excluding any possibility
Trust me
We define everything