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This Is Not Utopia

de Burning The Masses

Grrrrr!!

For generations we mourn a richness in life
A day by day different scene
Analysis of, information!
Mental memories project visions to feed on
Our wisdom enhances only to question
and acknowledge your fears
You frolic and play when you are young
Rot in your stench as you grow old.
Facing your own mortality fills you with
an obstinate dread you can't rid of!

The on set of disease
Your air comes with receipt

Worried you will die alone
You expect the crucifix
Around your neck to save your soul.
A hint of growing old, and losing beauty.
Fear of impaired mobility
Your face deteriorates
as your insides decompose
Your brain lacks oxygen
A soft whistle spews out
As you choke internally!

You frolic and play when you are young
Rot in your stench as you grow old
Facing your own morality fills you with
An obstinate dread you can't rid of!

The onset of disease
Your air comes with a receipt

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