Unnatural Selection
Starve The Ego - Feed The Soul Most magnificent, isn't it? Ah? Yes. The night, of course, that is what this refers to. Its dark blanket covering everything around us. Keeping us warm, both inside and out. HUNGER. Most humans are afraid of the dark; something that is quite perplexing. If we stop to think for a minute, we are born in darkness. The womb--our first natural habitat. We are engulfed in darkness--and to drive the point further--we do not acquire sight quite yet either. So why is the night frightening for most? HUNGER. The darkness--the night, is a muse. Its beauty ignites desire, ignites... a hunger. |
Sometimes this hunger is driven deep into our skin, our pores, something that pushes our insides together, making the skin crawl--making the fire inside burn hotter.
And then the hunger begs the question: will we satisfy it, or will we starve? Do we continue down the path of destruction in order to achieve self-preservation? HUNGER. This sensation must be quenched, like a thirst--but mind you, the hunger is not like thirst. And this is because this hunger can only be temporarily quenched. It always comes back; it always cries in the night, begging attention from us, to gather inquiries about feeding. Anything to fight starvation--something put upon us, unbeknownst to us, behind our backs! Beyond our control! HUNGER. So what do we do? How can we fight this? How can we tell the man to stop starving our soul? WE MAKE HIM. We give him no choice but to give in. To embrace this hunger-- Help him shed his skin into the night, transform, evolve! Let the wolves out, sir, it is feeding time. |
Well it's a different man in your face
And so out of place
That you can see anything there that you wish
Kiss my bliss
It's like I'm a welcoming freakshow doormat
Held in awe while growing fat in the head
This is where we all should see red
A big fat wet slab of red
And I see that it makes me anti everything
And I see that it makes me want to shed my skin, shed my skin
Revelation leading to my psychosis and inspiration
Digest another hallucination, psychosis by recreation
Happy till the next deterioration, psychosis
For you it's a different notion of music and motion
A dance of lights, a prosaic ocean
A delicate, nearly transparent creation of somebody's soul on the screen
Has caught you in between
Of somebody's life on the stage and somebody's life on the frontpage
And this is where we all should see red
A big fat laughing mouth of red
And I see that it makes me anti everything
And I see that it makes me want to shed my skin, shed my skin
I think I'm gonna start my own religion
Seems to be the recipe for a new sensation
Think it's gonna make a trendy revolution
Quite the contribution to the unnatural selection
And so out of place
That you can see anything there that you wish
Kiss my bliss
It's like I'm a welcoming freakshow doormat
Held in awe while growing fat in the head
This is where we all should see red
A big fat wet slab of red
And I see that it makes me anti everything
And I see that it makes me want to shed my skin, shed my skin
Revelation leading to my psychosis and inspiration
Digest another hallucination, psychosis by recreation
Happy till the next deterioration, psychosis
For you it's a different notion of music and motion
A dance of lights, a prosaic ocean
A delicate, nearly transparent creation of somebody's soul on the screen
Has caught you in between
Of somebody's life on the stage and somebody's life on the frontpage
And this is where we all should see red
A big fat laughing mouth of red
And I see that it makes me anti everything
And I see that it makes me want to shed my skin, shed my skin
I think I'm gonna start my own religion
Seems to be the recipe for a new sensation
Think it's gonna make a trendy revolution
Quite the contribution to the unnatural selection
