| Raining as always, the city is in pain, almost dead
|
| Artificial lighting trying to revive the dreary scene
|
| The land is cold, sun is behind a toxic veil
|
| A raped city gives no shelter for the weak
|
| Machines' low hum is constant, echoing in the streets
|
| Air’s been still for ages 'cos the wind is dead
|
| My mother gave birth to me from a microwave womb
|
| But I wasn’t synchronized with abstract times
|
| Grew up with the rain, never saw the sun
|
| Neurotic climate really got to me
|
| Tasted the cruel world with innocent eyes
|
| The sucked all it’s additive to my synthetic brain
|
| Chemical showers keep me nervous and the skin is burning
|
| Remote control changing the channels in my head
|
| Won’t close my eyes, programmed myself to maximize
|
| The anxiety, still I know I don’t belong here
|
| Take my oxygen mask, I wanna go our for a ride
|
| I know it’s after curfew but I have to change the scene
|
| Glide through the bleak landscape with no destination
|
| Just trying to keep myself together, I’m about to erupt
|
| Got a skin made of concrete, a plastic heart inside
|
| The only problem is I don’t fit in
|
| Switch myself invisible, use the radar look
|
| Observing the view from the outside
|
| Inhumanity is all I find much too fierce to me
|
| It’s late and I’m tired
|
| On my way home I’ll see
|
| No friend |