Spine - The Amenta

There is no strength

There are only systems

There is no belief

There is only dogma

No more spines

Controlled by ambition

Only buckled car bodies

In which we are caged

This sick new world

This sick world trapped

In buckled car bodies

Asleep at the wheel

Out of control

Controls out of reach

Always crashing

In the same car

Democracy is a faceless dictator

It’s branding erased

In repeated collisions

Under a tangled constitution

A squat, squalid slave

The scattered detritus

Of a freeway culture

There is no strength

There is only systems

There is no belief

There is only dogma

No more spines

Controlled by ambition

Only buckled car bodies

In which we are caged

A revolution

Is just a zero

It brings you right back

To where you began

Out with the old

In with the new

The only thing changing

Is who holds the whip

Peakhour traffic

In static dead air

Psyche mirrored in

A crash victim’s fender

Every word brings

Smells of burning oil

We will all be

Hunched shoulders

Windows shut and

Air recycled

No direction

No fucking spine

We are in neutral

Careening down steep streets

Asleep at the wheel

Out of control

No one takes the wheel

Just pretending to drive

A new dummy

Every time we crash

Everything stuttering

Towards zero

No movement and no meaning

This world is all

Dimming headlights

Billboards cluttered

With empty rhetoric

The futile chatter of

A preprogrammed system

There is no difference

But there is a choice

There is a shell

But there is no spine