Profit Margins

Presented like a product,

Placed in a black box

The promise of salvation,

Is enough to make us watch

There is no thought,

And there is no concern

We can't retrace our steps

Across the bridges that we burn

But were content to be

Getting what we're getting for free

So we lock our chains

And we throw away the key

But the free comes at a price

That we'd rather not think about

The free comes at a price

We'd rather not think about.

Well we don' think much

About much these days

So the chance of that happening

Quickly fades away

Into another haze of emotion,

Another blur of product

Far from any pretense

And removed from any context

But nothing really seems

To be in context anymore

We sold our integrity

And now we are the whores

With our blue plastic checking cards

And silicone implants

Our pre-constructed world

That has all us trapped

[Chorus]

(and) All we are...

Is a tool to be used to pay

For someone else's rent

A profit gain of 23%

(and) All we are...

Pieces of paper to be torn into shreds

A small piece of capital to be worked until our death

Salvation in consumption

Is an absurd way to live

Products as religion

Is too much to give

So we fill our lives with useless items

To make up for ourselves

And we fill our heads with excuses

To justify our wealth

But the greed that fuels our consumption

Seems to be accepted

And not just as a fault,

But as a trait to be respected

How we got to this point

Is a question without answer

We can blame it on TV,

But we set the standard

All of this hypocricy

Just leaves me more confused

Expecting something more

When i should just be amuzed

At the pettiness, the irony,

The ignorance, and abuse

The individual twines we braid

Into one collective noose

Cause at the age of 24

You can't expect me to accept

That the standards of humanity

Coul possibly be less

All we ever wanted

Was to be something more than this

All we ever wanted

Was to be something more than this!

[Chorus]