Our salvation in the hands of doom
Arctic front just a little seems to much
A tolerance to something with no passion or no desire
To be that frozen bird on the wire
Burning purpose Burning reason
reason to plant the greatest ideas
A non-touch society bleeding out slowly
As they shape our mold
To be a force or be a commune
Starving the less prepared
Now their army they call us the metronome
Building their power forgetting humanity's moral disaster
Ambiguous though they left us no escape held hostage
Corporations traps us always fighting for food.
Panic it's out of their control
We the people
Hold all the cards
Watching the economy teeple
Expecting only handfuls to be still driving cars
I have been stuck in a black hole
searching for ammo for my soul
Searching for camo
Before gravity takes it's toll
Now it's 2066
They think home will be hit by some close encounter
Some near Earth object is eyeing annihilation
Apophis at 3.4km on 2029 sounds pretty close
Apophis Just go away we don't want you back
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