Bleeding In The Blur

You're fighting over crumbs and starving in the shit Burning in the garden as they watch over it Put you out to pasture while you're chomping at the bit The line between art and pain no longer exists You're bleeding in the blur You're dying in a ditch Paint the picture how you want It's yours to make fit I'm basking in the black on black While you're grinding in the gray A factory of cowards. An army of inane. Faith in numbers on the paper The view will never change Constructed just to fill the void, you oil the machine. You're bleeding in the blur