Welcome to some kind of breed, 'does this make you happy?' They got you working the machines, Mr. Grieves is shadowing New generations for the hunt Millions of new minds to gut Technicism is scary and the singularity No more an*log for us, 'does this make you happy?' The moving principle means going forward Without the drag of the modern world They had me wired, they had me tapped
I lived on a grid, centered the map Use to live on a salary, fed my guts to the IRS Dropped out for an alter wage, sold my soul to the DEA Started living a private life, away from the magnetic traps Now they have no part of me, i'm just an obsolete thing The modern world is surrounding me The modern world is slowly burning