| The mask continues to smile pushing the fiction to the limit
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| Even if it cannot hide the terror in the iris
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| Vacuum packed in an airtight seal
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| Shadow of reality reproduced on a synthetic patina
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| Immortal scythe facade behind the back
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| Triumph of appearance elected as a system
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| Reflected in the distorting mirror
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| It expands overflowing with deafening din
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| All inclusive leaves your head out of order
|
| You can pay for a replacement in convenient installments
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| Or a top-of-the-line designer face
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| I wonder how you do it if you don't have it yet, you're out of the loop
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| Wide choice of pre-cooked modules
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| They determine tastes, times and hobbies
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| Dreams and wishes sword fan in the arm
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| Happy family with a dead man in the pot
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| And words that the wind carries but for these airs
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| We need a planetary cataclysm
|
| Consumed in the buying and selling of souls
|
| In the supermarket you can find more than one shelf with:
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| Chat and image!
|
| The television remains off and I don't look at it anymore
|
| I downloaded a thousand porn other than pay TV
|
| Here is reverse Darwinism single-cell lathes
|
| And your friends on the web don't have a social life
|
| Dear my president with a criminal background
|
| Your smiles go to Larsen with 'this sidereal funk
|
| Who wants us androids loves to make us freak out
|
| I who mix with it do not consider it
|
| I regret the times when this world seemed to go to hell
|
| Now he lures some viados and not even a preliminary
|
| I do not count the abject characters that I am going to eliminate
|
| Let me talk while I have monoxide to breathe
|
| Covered with garbage, we also deny the evidence
|
| Separate collection to clear our conscience
|
| And one more victim no longer makes a difference
|
| The news of voices that speak and speak
|
| They no longer have neither shame nor heart nor soul
|
| In their house mirrors covered as in Phenomena
|
| Prohibit it like rum in Autogrills
|
| But your karma doesn't save Jason Lee either
|
| Under the blanket of lies my ideas clear up
|
| The chatter disappears and the images fade
|
| (therefore) remove the mysticisms and realize that you have not seen me
|
| That in the end even Jesus was just a poor Christ!
|
| Chat and image! |