I am a product
I've been manufactured in your homes, your living rooms
The neglected one, surrounded by a world of importance
I'm the spine of liberty, the worn face of doubt
I'm the mourner's tear, I've been mistaken for you..
Now we're taking numbers for a grave
A home for too many friends and ancestors
And although their blood waters our gardens our harvest is none
And our trust is in no one
I am the emptiness of the trinity
The ever-changing face of temptation
Your world feeds me and in return I suffer
Are we not yet ripe for the picking?
A crop of slaves working for pay, paying for freedom
I've become the anti-love banner
I alone speak, hear and feel nothing
I'm immune to you, no compassion for the truth
Stumbling around this haunted city, doomed
Oh nothingness? I'm in no position to digress
Only to withstand and twist into the blades of depression
Scarred and bleeding from living, scared yet heeding from dying
I've become more than a man, and less of a person
A state I hold the sky accountable for, it's made me into nothing
Now, I spit apathy and piss complaints
known for having too much to say about nothing
This coming from no-ones
I am your hate. I am your shame and the one to blame.
I am the sky. Your sea and the enemy.
I am nothing to you.
I am nothing to me.
I am nothing,
But a product.