Texty: Strung Out. An American Paradox.

One gaze from its electric eye immortalizes you forever in their hearts and minds.
Messiah of the people savior of the servants on this runaway train without a cause.
Everyday I tell myself I gotta find a way out of this American Paradox.
Paddling like a dog to the bone that's going to splinter me and they know what's best for my life.
Winfing backwards it creates a dischord that calls itself progression on a grander scale.
The supermodel monster turned crackhead at the wheel of this automated virgin sacrifice.
Everybody step in line it's time to get your piece of the American paradox.
Biting at the hand that fed me this illusion now I'm on for the ride of my life.
This perversion gains it's momentum my resistance turns to fear at its changing face.
I sold my soul to forces still unknown and I don't want it back.
Prescription dementia riddle-ated protection from impurities of the heart and mind.
I've cancelled my subscription broken covenant now there is no question whose side you are on.
I don't want to feed myself the appetite of excess.
I don't want to be another voice in the wind,
got it easy in a world that's not supposed to be,
sometimes I wonder if i think too much about me.
In a world full of mirrors, your reflection is all you see and I can't stand what's becoming of me.
So I'll scratch my eyes, rip this face off, and rebuild something new for the world to choke on.