These are only words, and artificial tones
We're just skin and bones, playing telephone with things,
that were probably never said at all

This World is stitched with schemes
Where once there was reality
It's hard to reach across the unbelievable distances,
between what we really are, and who we claim to be

And the Irony Engine isn't lost on me
The shame is that we saw it coming
In the faces of the young among us, on crayon and paper drawings
The clearest writing on the wall we could ever ask for

What do they believe?
Where are all their fathers?
Where are all their mothers?
Who left them there alone, with a television remote like some Philosopher's Stone?

Figure it out on your own, child...

If I still have anything to say
I'll try to make it plain...
Contrivance is a luxury, I don't have in the time that's left before the madness overtakes me.
I'm a voice among the voices,
the roar of whispers closes in,
the point seems to be pointless,
and I've forgotten who I am...

Lyrics submitted by discrepancy

Salutations song meanings
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