Panacea Songtext

Fictional form of an elemental brain-washing since you were born your authority remains watching your every gesture your every breath and every movenent unless you are absent and solitude is never granted where is this sensation I was promised long ago did I let it slip did I let it go I don't know But I can learn cause i don't trust the teacher I don't trust the speaker or the reaper or the PREACHER or the apple-seed philosophical johnny-come-lately johnny-be-quickly johnny-be-blatently blaming his problems on the Jones' holding grudges in his computer to dig up dead bones of the past with meticulous scrutiny and all of this iniquity will lead yourselves to mutiny within the ranks every chain has a weakest link answers are obvious but they refure to think and so I'm forced to reform the truth the light is untrustworthy it is percieved by you I'm the shadow of the interstate walker amusement self-sacrifice upon the alter the sun don't rise the sun never really sets it only looks that way from our blind perspective do you dream to be worthy to me any form of existance is absurdity the breeding of confusion the spreading of depression the poverty survivalist mentality progression and this institution was constructed out of knowledge and knowledge is awareness and needs no apology accepting no excuses denying no abuses the compulsive-behavior recipient never refuses the hand out making the sore thumb stand out they never had a chance cause the man had it planned out the deceased abyss is calling me clouds carry out sub-civilized fears all else will never decompose we look insane in the sunlight long-distance hellfire we lean into the pillars of the temple they teach us not to worship the soul Outnumbered in hell as the wicked to righteous many of both there is plenty of both the maliciousness emptiness so inconsiderate knowing is guiltness so is ignorance so is reluctance and knowing numbers our days in more ways that one but what if our days are done a riddle in the midst of a robbery disguised as a gift and the spirit is lifted to the presence of bliss it's indescribable in overflowing psycho-bable to rant rave rejoice and ramble and a fantasy of violence is nothing to be afraid of cleansing my blood in what my hatred is made of