Short on Cash

Well, we all thought the world was a big joke,
A cosmic prank that was a bit lacking in humor.
But, haha, now we’re starting to see,
That the only joke around here is me.
The world keeps spinning,
Trying to shake us off.
But we dig down,
Deeper into the mud, convincing ourselves we’re really flying.
We’ve all got this plan that involves something big,
But kinda skips out on the details.
We’re on an ivory hunt,
But we left our guns behind.

We always seem to come up a bit shorthanded.
Underprepared, we strike off into the vast distance,
Not stopping to think or thinking to stop.
We seem to have this idea,
That involves a forward path towards death,
But don’t forget the blinders!
You see, what makes this idea so perfect,
Is that you can’t get distracted.
It all begins with the removal of passion.
Oo to avoid sounding idealistic and removed from the rest of this globe,
It starts with the idea of boredom.
You see, boredom is our disease.
It is our generation’s Great War.
It is what we won’t be remembered for.
I say it starts with boredom,
But our grandfathers started the problem.
Great grandfathers perhaps.
I mean, this isn’t news to anyone.
Boredom is only a problem because our idea of the solution:
That we have to buy it away.
Money = happiness.
So they have said.
But don’t take this with a grain of salt.
Just don’t take it at all.
Money is a cult-wide curse we have inflicted upon ourselves and dragged down humanity with.
It has the evil allure akin to Satan, for you old timers.
You will never buy conversation.
There will never be a price-tag on passion.
Never will you see a sincere lover with dollar-bills in their eyes.
But you know what you can by?
Coked out convos with a lustful hooker.
And apparently that’s our M.O.:
Sacrifice sincerity and authenticity for convenience and speed.
We are racing towards death,
And we’re about to pay for it,
But I guarantee,
You’ll be short on cash.

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