Kappaleen sanat
Every morning, the wire pulls him up,
and every night, it puts him back down.
And in between, he utters no single sound,
he’s just too busy waiting for the world to spin around.
There’s that dust on the wall, he can look at it all day,
the nutrition tube reaches to his mouth once it’s agape
and fills him with the vitamins and endorphins everyone needs,
those billions of systematically dispersed seeds.
Existence in stasis year after year,
no blood, no sweat, no tears,
no need for constant crippling fears
in a life without worries, a life without change
Synthetic love and care confined in an eternal lair,
inactivity and ignorance have numbed their brains.
January Adams, December Waynes
all separated, all collectively waiting
Waiting and waiting,
waiting and waiting
there is no light in their eyes
they don’t lift a finger, they won’t even try
to find another way,
they’ve got nothing to say.
Neurons are all engaged in deep sleep,
The only sound present is their receding heartbeat.
Every street is empty,
every institution shut,
everything done by servants,
machines of infinite fuel.
The time has finally come
for mankind to be let loose,
all peace, no war,
but what is this hibernal nation?
Everyone used to bathe in the sun,
now no one howls at the moon.
No one says they want change,
everyone is content watching the rain.
Dust begins to gather in their empty brains,
they know no guilt, they’ve never felt shame.
It’s always the same, year after month after day.
They know no trouble, they’ll never feel any pain.
What a grand destiny for man.
Spend the rest of their days just sitting around,
listening to idle sounds.
It all started as a game of fun,
then workload was taken out,
so much time to do anything you could ever want,
go to space, win a race, be a star.
The sky is the only limit,
and you can go beyond every star.
It all lasted for a day or two, then everything stopped,
all those grand plans, they were all dropped.
Epicurus’ secret dream became reality,
scientists discovered technocrats’ true abilities,
there’d be no more urban misery,
no time away from your family,
no lives wasted in factories,
and everyone could go home.
No one cared if the sun shone,
if the Earth moved or not,
no one stopped to think and question,
there was no disagreement or aggression.
No one had a single qualm,
no one drove their own agenda,
no one is evermore a pawn,
no one’s playing the game anymore.
What a great day for mankind.
Freedom has arrived at last,
all troubles belong in the past,
everyone’s the same on the inside now,
and there is no rush, no one’s got anywhere to go.
Mass production of pills, supplements and foetuses,
St Peter’s is empty, no one tends the lotuses,
and someone in his headrest comfort focuses,
and spends three hours recalling his name, all in vain.
and every night, it puts him back down.
And in between, he utters no single sound,
he’s just too busy waiting for the world to spin around.
There’s that dust on the wall, he can look at it all day,
the nutrition tube reaches to his mouth once it’s agape
and fills him with the vitamins and endorphins everyone needs,
those billions of systematically dispersed seeds.
Existence in stasis year after year,
no blood, no sweat, no tears,
no need for constant crippling fears
in a life without worries, a life without change
Synthetic love and care confined in an eternal lair,
inactivity and ignorance have numbed their brains.
January Adams, December Waynes
all separated, all collectively waiting
Waiting and waiting,
waiting and waiting
there is no light in their eyes
they don’t lift a finger, they won’t even try
to find another way,
they’ve got nothing to say.
Neurons are all engaged in deep sleep,
The only sound present is their receding heartbeat.
Every street is empty,
every institution shut,
everything done by servants,
machines of infinite fuel.
The time has finally come
for mankind to be let loose,
all peace, no war,
but what is this hibernal nation?
Everyone used to bathe in the sun,
now no one howls at the moon.
No one says they want change,
everyone is content watching the rain.
Dust begins to gather in their empty brains,
they know no guilt, they’ve never felt shame.
It’s always the same, year after month after day.
They know no trouble, they’ll never feel any pain.
What a grand destiny for man.
Spend the rest of their days just sitting around,
listening to idle sounds.
It all started as a game of fun,
then workload was taken out,
so much time to do anything you could ever want,
go to space, win a race, be a star.
The sky is the only limit,
and you can go beyond every star.
It all lasted for a day or two, then everything stopped,
all those grand plans, they were all dropped.
Epicurus’ secret dream became reality,
scientists discovered technocrats’ true abilities,
there’d be no more urban misery,
no time away from your family,
no lives wasted in factories,
and everyone could go home.
No one cared if the sun shone,
if the Earth moved or not,
no one stopped to think and question,
there was no disagreement or aggression.
No one had a single qualm,
no one drove their own agenda,
no one is evermore a pawn,
no one’s playing the game anymore.
What a great day for mankind.
Freedom has arrived at last,
all troubles belong in the past,
everyone’s the same on the inside now,
and there is no rush, no one’s got anywhere to go.
Mass production of pills, supplements and foetuses,
St Peter’s is empty, no one tends the lotuses,
and someone in his headrest comfort focuses,
and spends three hours recalling his name, all in vain.
