What a skeletal wreck of man this is.
Translucent flesh and feeble bones,
The kind of temple where the whores and villains try to tempt the holistic tomes.
Running rampid with free thought to free form, and the free and clear.
When the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a
Laundry mat to sift and focus on the bigger, better, now.

We all have a little sin that needs venting,
Virtues for the rending and laws and systems and stems are ripped
From the branches of office, do you know where your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose, or purposely serve?
When in doubt inside your atavistic allure, the value of a summer spent,
And a winter earned.

For the rest of us, there is always Sunday.
The day of the week the reeks of rest, but all we do is catch our breath,
So we can wade naked in the bloody pool, and place our hand on the big, black book.
To watch the knives zigzag between our aching fingers.
A vacation is a countdown, T minus your life and
Counting, time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube,
And hope you get a taste.

What the fuck is all this for?
What the hell's going on? Shut up!
I can go on and on but lets move on, shall we?

Say, your me, and I'm you, and they all watch the things we do,
And like a smack of spite they threw me down the stairs,
Haven't felt like this in years.

The great magnet of malicious magnanimous refuse, let me go,
And punch me into the dead spout again.
That's where you go when there's no one else around,
It's just you, and there was never anyone to begin with, now was there?
Sanctimonious pretentious dastardly bastards with their thumb on the pulse,
And a finger on the trigger.

Classified my ass!
That's a fucking secret, and you know it!
Government is another way to say better than you.
It's like ice but no pick, a murder charge that won't stick,
It's like a whole other world where you can smell the food,
But you can't touch the silverware.
Huh, what luck. Fascism you can vote for.
Humph, isn't that sweet?
And we're all gonna die some day, because that's the American way,
And I've drunk too much, and said too little,
When your gaffer taped in the
Middle, say a prayer, say a face,
Get your self together and see what's happening.

Shut up! Fuck you! Fuck you!

I'm sorry, I could go on and on but
Their times to move on so, remember, you're a wreck, an accident.
Forget the freak, your just nature.
Keep the gun oiled, and the temple cleaned shit snort,
And blaspheme, let the heads cool, and the engine run.
Because in the end, everything we do, is just everything we've done.

Lyrics submitted by downthesun836, edited by fishhair

"Omega" as written by Josh Rand Joel Ekman

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Omega song meanings
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  • +1
    General CommentI love that people have been saying this ISN'T a poem because it's a random collection of thoughts well...what is poetry if not random collections of thoughts? That's all it is. Ever heard of a little something called "poetic license?" Yeah. That's because poetry is anything and everything the person writer it could ever desire it to be. This is most definitely poetry.
    songofthedeafgirlon October 26, 2007   Link
  • 0
    General Commentwow that's long
    SilentAenimaon July 29, 2002   Link
  • 0
    General Commentvery and its only 2 mins and 52 seconds long
    downthesun836on July 30, 2002   Link
  • 0
    General Commentyea its huge although short, I was able to get my hands on every song from this CD and this is one of the best ones, its all talking but its really good. Stone Sour is really amazing....
    allenmiller247on August 05, 2002   Link
  • 0
    General Commentvery good, impressed me, i still need the song inside the cynic, can anyone help?
    SourStone011on August 08, 2002   Link
  • 0
    General Commentis this song even on the cd. i was lookin at their website and didnt see it under track listings.
    stoneknot666on August 17, 2002   Link
  • 0
    General Commentyes this is on thier cd but its not really a song its more a a poem its number 13 on the cd and they didnt post the lyrics on thier website because its has no music.
    deaconon March 24, 2003   Link
  • 0
    General Commentgod damn corey's a good poet
    wiredmonkiekilleron July 03, 2003   Link
  • 0
    real_crazy_74on July 05, 2004   Link
  • 0
    General CommentI like the words, just, the way Corey reads them, it sounds very ... scripted. I mean, I know he was reading the words, but you can tell he was, he reads them like schoolkids read from textbooks to the whole class.
    niennaon September 30, 2004   Link

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