Are we a part of the insufficient collective?
Make us feel worthless, nothing but a digit.
Day by day, governed by insignificance.
Those monstrous eyes, engulfing our minds.
Infectious, pretentious, melodious, in untrained eyes.
Now we pay the price (we're the last of our kind).
We're the last of our kind.
We can't be told what to do with our lives.
We're all stuck in disillusion - screaming for retribution.
We're all lost in hysteria, dreaming of revolution.
Scream, shout; become one with the moral high ground.
As you attempt to make us all weaker, continue to look down at the inferior.
Together we said.
You could say that we were never supposed to make it.
Give us our world back.
Our imaginations are progressively withering.
The lack of temptation to thrive and achieve.
What is the point? We're the successors of a neglected suppressed minority.
We couldn't fool this world, we're not indestructible.
We're all one with a paradigm called survival.