lirik lagu micah schnabel - existential dread machine
[spoken]
will someone please play a saxophone?
thank you. (you’re welcome!)
[verse 1]
another day on the existential dread machine
i can’t look away from this obscene little screen
the life and death and infinite jest direct to my cerebral cortex and refreshed every 30 seconds
crowdfunding cancer drugs and digital bake sales to help bury our friends
is this your rugged individualism, america?
bootstrap fairy tales and no~bake conspiracy theoriеs?
get out of here
tеll me about your mothers and your grandmothers and the strength it took them to raise you to where you are today
my mom worked at a subway. the fast food restaurant not the public transportation system
this is my first fascist, societal collapse
sending kids off to class with gas masks and bulletproof backpacks
well, march on little soldiers
i know you’ll want to k!ll us for this when you get a bit older (thumbs up for good luck!)
now as i write this the bubble wrap “pop pop” of gunshots go off outside
vanessa and i drop to our knees and crawl on the floor to meet each other in the hallway
which we’ve agreed is the safest place
now this is or is not a love song
well, depending on your perspective
we’re under~educated and over informed
desperate for connection while forced to perform
meaningless tasks for small amounts of currency
with one hand behind our back and say, “thank you for the opportunity!”
but wait a second, wait a second~~ this feels like a shakedown
a ponzi scheme, a f~cking kamikaze mission
is existence really just some back alley deal where we get k!lled if we scream?
if that’s the deal, excuse me, i’m gonna make a scene
[spoken]
i believe each and every single one of us are a living, breathing museum
life is not one long twisted road to perdition
and suffering is not the price of admission
and we don’t need anyone’s permission
to find the beauty in our own existence
[verse]
smash the glass and sound the alarm
if someone falls behind, we take them by the arm
lace your fingers together and lift, lift, lift
we’re all running for our lives from these mobsters grift
allah, mickey mouse, dollar bill, jehovah, and christ
i think i’ve seen and heard enough of all their advice
i sacrificed the first 25 years of my life
talking to myself and preparing to die
now i genuflect to the people
not a shrine to the swine
i’m with the kids in the streets
reclaiming their time
[outro]
it’s just another day on the existential dread machine
just another day on the existential dread machine
it’s just another day on the existential dread machine
just another day
i hope you’re okay, i hope i’m okay, i hope you’re okay
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