Arc Eye

Alienation: the product of our toil Two ankles swinging above the dipping floor Suspended in the fixture of this is how it is Begging for ours, conditioned to lose And the only looming puncture is the slow creep of death No bang just a wink and 12-hour shifts Alienation... Sterile, exhausted, detached and incomplete Can you reach beyond their terminal beach? In days of extraction and automated sleep Can you reach beyond their terminal beach? Servile and dejected competing for the noose Taunted by the spinning wheel of insecurity Dull static, time robbed, strung obsolete And however shrill the cries you hear they'll teach you pain is singular Freedom to move, but always dragged back Acceptance, resilience or queueing for defeat ritual indignity just to make ends meet So expose the hidden truth that this is what we've made that all can be dismantled and glass stained red Gut the bosses, build it all again