Imperfect Futurism - M.E (Most Everyone) Lyrics

Verse 1:
Every day of the unrelenting boredom replaces the happiness inherent
Forge another smile in the smith of your dark draconian heart
Remove from within the dripping faucet of the sincerity you spent
Now the pan flags of the war can be removed and I can depart
Fly over Peter Pan’s home and drop the bombs, destruction
Blow up youth and devestate happiness, that’s what we do, yeah?
Throw a spanner in the works, a futuristic production
No moving forward or progession in general, that’s how we live, yeah?
Take apart the monolithic statue of this period
Internationally prevailing wind of the dominant master
Fight rebellions with absolution
Develop new ways to do it even faster
Flay enemies with lead propulsion
Intrepid futurism when left in the face of unrelenting obedience
Imperfect futurism when faced with circumvented opposition

Your evidence of the day to come is never seen
Truth of your real feelings is never spoken
Forget the monotamy of lying to seem keen
Tell the reality when you talk about what your hoping

Verse 2:
Bellowing from the underbelly of the common workers disgruntled unity
The hatred is heard from afar
Erupting from the fist of the unnatural leaders of a chess piece class without inherent beauty
The hostility is held like a scimitar
This could spell the end of the pre-determination imperfect futurism requires
The start of a past dystopian way of life could begin here and now
Leading mental gameplayers conspire
The game is about to get interesting and this is how
The lesser viewed of the world rise up and go against the grain
The readily steady begin to sway and question all and everything
The built bridge of small integrity begains to buckle under the metaphorical strain
Those in the penultimate position, keeping the throne, clutch at anything
Those actually in the throne are revolutionized and axed, lose their heads and fall fast from grace
Next is the start of voting for the next insignificant ruler, who attempts to gain power to encourage change
But the shoe doesn’t fit, the crown doesn’t rightly sit and the individual is in the wrong place
Now it registers that everything now looks strange
Nostalgia produces longing for the imperfect futurism of the past
The claws of anti-progression are strong and will last

Chorus x1

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