| "Solely on Routine" |
| The sun may have risen at 6:00 a.m. But we rest and waste The morning away, this morning. For our morning is the world�s night, And when you go to bed At 4:45 a.m. You too will know what it is like. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. When the afternoon rolls around, and We climb down from our Fortress of slumber, Breakfast is no longer a time, But a feeling. Who are you to say, �Good Afternoon,� When it is clearly the morning At 2:23 p.m.? Our morning, our world, Our time, our rules. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. And now that a new day is upon us We head out into this world. A world built solely on routine, As we move towards a friend�s house To watch our MTVs or TLCs And �waste,� as you would call it, �The day away.� At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. But the Playstation is the spacestation Of our generation, my generation. Gone are the days where space Was a dream, a goal. Now the only dreams of the 21st Century Are who to fuck next, And waiting for your turn to play the game. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. And Tower Records stands like The Tower of Babel, Where the punk rock princess goes to Worship dead heroes, false prophets. We flock there like sheep To the monotonous beat that is life. But now there is a video game channel, And I can think of nothing more absurd Than paying a cable bill to Watch someone else having fun� If that is fun, I do not know. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. And late at night when there are no parties To be found, we talk. We talk of what happened earlier In the day, or in the past. Those things are worth remembering. But when we talk of philosophy And what we view the world as, You cry because you believe it too. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. Life is summed up on your tombstone In that little dash Between your birth and death. A dash is your accomplishments, And you think about this As you jerk off to fantasies you cannot grasp. You pull the covers over your head And pass out At 3:17 a.m. Today was a boring day. They all are. At 12:00 p.m. We are still asleep In our cozy beds. Go to sleep. |