This fucked vision might spare us one day, my darling,
But for now, we're delusional
The sun rises and sets in the same place every day
Yet we search for the light
Glaciers would melt before I gave a prayer
Beliefs of an old mind are desperate
The plants bloom every spring
Yet we search for life
I broke my hand on a wall yesterday
And the wall felt nothing
Cleaning brick dust from our knuckles
We're slaves to the time
When did pregnancy become a pastime activity?
A penguin dies from heat stroke
Destructive particles of dust, like ants with guns
Yet we're born into the mess
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