Script For Escapism

Gods and men, conquerors and slaves

Technology is the future, building the end

Man is a puppet whose future shall be dust

While written and as you read, we are aware

The shortest straws are from endless piles

Reality and imagination walk the same path

Fools enslaved themselves in wish

Boundaries and chains (are for the weak)

The future, brightness turns to grey

One mind will decide, before wealth we will obey

Wings to the makers, fire of the will

Those who live in pray, silently they'll fade

The shortest straws are from endless piles

Reality and imagination walk the same path

Fools enslaved themselves in wish

Boundaries and chains (are for the weak)

All of us are sinners, entering our last room

Halfway to afterlife, before the end begins