So I’ve been taught since the 90s to clear my plate
So now dessert feels like work, after 3 burnt chops
Before these non-deterministic magic boxes, we were
Just mechanical turks with calculators
Monkeys who knew how it all worked
Before the rest of you forgot

Who wrote frameworks weaving
Machines we could control

We started looking inward, but still enjoyed a mystery
The future is too busy analysing, to create a there, there
You can’t hide when everyone can see heat like a mother, mafia or missile
We all have a signature now

The universe is losing entropy as are our stories
The generation of a persona through the words of a therapist
We’re used to empty promises
As we hear of RTO, but can get there underground now
Just fucking stop calling us on the train
To our home where we’re unsafe to ourselves