IRC-Galleria

All the lil'Snaps wanna be like Clint; they all wanna be like Clint, but I wanna be like Lee Van Cleef; ya know, I wanna be like Lee. Whatever happened to Lee Van Cleef; whatever happened to Lee?

On your knees, look at yourself, a corporation cog with a head.
No original thought, a product of things, that consume your will, and define your dreams.

When you were young, you took on the world, remember how you'd laugh and sing?
You've replaced it all with an IRA, internet porn, and a job you hate.

BUT NOW:
Spectator on your own life
Watching and cheering goodbye
Sinking into endless night
Serving your slave design

Giving in without a fight
Passion resonates no more
A goal that never comes in sight
Til they close the coffin door.

Fenced-in yard, that screen on your wall, books on the shelf, you never have read,
Suburban right turns, amassing your wealth, a middle-class pawn, in love with himself

Lock the doors, set the alarm, another weekend, alone in your head
The kids are out drunk, the wife's in bed, pop a few pills to forget again

Spectator on your own life
Watching and cheering goodbye
Sinking into endless night
Serving your slave design

Giving in without a fight
Passion resonates no more
A goal that never comes in sight
Til they close the coffin door

Inside your homemade prison, an average life lived and died

Rules deftly followed
Boss' ass, firmly kissed
Bound in by possessions
...And overpowering emptiness