Testo Spine The Amenta

Spine

There is no strength
There are only systems
There is no belief
There is only dogma
No more spines
Controlled by ambition
Only buckled car bodies
In which we are caged

This sick new world
This sick world trapped
In buckled car bodies
Asleep at the wheel
Out of control
Controls out of reach
Always crashing
In the same car

Democracy is a faceless dictator
It's branding erased
In repeated collisions
Under a tangled constitution
A squat, squalid slave
The scattered detritus
Of a freeway culture

There is no strength
There is only systems
There is no belief
There is only dogma
No more spines
Controlled by ambition
Only buckled car bodies
In which we are caged

A revolution
Is just a zero
It brings you right back
To where you began

Out with the old
In with the new
The only thing changing
Is who holds the whip

Peakhour traffic
In static dead air
Psyche mirrored in
A crash victim's fender
Every word brings
Smells of burning oil

We will all be
Hunched shoulders
Windows shut and
Air recycled
No direction
No fucking spine

We are in neutral
Careening down steep streets
Asleep at the wheel
Out of control
No one takes the wheel
Just pretending to drive
A new dummy
Every time we crash
Everything stuttering
Towards zero
No movement and no meaning
This world is all
Dimming headlights

Billboards cluttered
With empty rhetoric
The futile chatter of
A preprogrammed system
There is no difference
But there is a choice
There is a shell
But there is no spine