Existence, the poetry of the flesh
Which we will trust from conception to dust
Just another body, a temple of shit
Filled with the trash that we dump in it
This house possessed with sins of the flesh
Instinctive desire to procreate multiplying our mess
Another series of holes of which we're to fill
Mortal receptacles pumped full of seminal swill
A familiar stranger
To walk this earth is to always be in danger
♪
A complete and utter objectification of a sentient being
An earthly trait of intellectual superiority
Born in a hate manger
Lined with extreme angst
And a broken chemistry
That familiar stranger
Mourning our minds
With an answer to the riddle you'll never find
Fertile are the loins of the earth
The soil womb to which we return
Sharpened societal femurs
Our swords to fall on
What makes you think you're so sublime
Among the others that are standing in line?
Waiting for their time
♪
We are only vessels that leave a stain that lasts forever
The toppled cup of skin that spills a poison with no half measure
♪
We, we are only bodies
Survived by guilt and the neurosis of entitlement
Like insects, so are the days of our lives
With a vastly finite duration
With eons of habitual infestation
♪
But I, I'm just a body
Alive but rotting
A storm of flies that hides behind these eyes
I'm just a body
Either billion like me
Burning our hive
Scorched alive
And you, you're just a body
Flesh-lined tragedy
Dead but alive
Remembering a time within our lives, in our history
Life in our prime
A fiction of the mind
Lying to ourselves, blind
We are just bodies
Insect parodies
Burning our hive
Remembering the crime that is our lives, that's our history
Life in our prime
Reflection of a time where all is left behind