He says we’re just bags of meat, metabolizing until we die
no meaning, no purpose
no meaning, no purpose
no meaning, no purpose
unless we make it ourselves
These words will never be seen on tokstagram
never be a pretty girl who cries about not being pretty
never be a pretty girl who laments about not being pretty enough
never fit the algorithm, fit the algorithm, be a pretty girl
There is a head in the noose in the gallows in the city square
smiling, spitting, crying
smiling, spitting, crying
waiting for the world to do its thing
waiting for the world to love again
smiling, spitting, crying
Grab a pillar of flame, let it burn, smoke into the sky
a pillar of flame that is your arm, that is your face, that is your eye
a pillar of flame to light a pyre
a pillar of flame to feed a fire
burning away what’s already gone, what’s already dead
I am meat, sinew, bone and spark
meaning purpose made
I am me
I am a pyre
I am me
I am a crier
I am me