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echoes (the amazing digital circus)
Shwabadi
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We're killing god, to make a man from what he's not
Just files that we're stored, the pride and the fall
To find out we never were anyone at all
Yeah, facts land like a nuke hit
One wrong step and the boot slips
Floors fall where you stand, are you stupid?
Wish I never learned, but now I'm certain, I'mma lose it
You are not a person, just a cursor with a new fit
Newborn, clueless- new form, who's this?
New spawn, living in a nightmare that's so lucid
You are not a person, man- the person's just a blueprint
How can you still crack jokes when they all laugh differently
Life tryna screw us all, that's bigamy
There ain't nothing like it, now it all lacks simile
You ain't nothing like 'em, you're a poor facsimile
Of course that's killing me
Tryna step up to the plate, but I fall a little short at
The base like we all bat little league
Insecurities are modeled on my face and now this form don't fit on me
Like a deer saw the headlights or a rabbit saw the TV glow
If I can't get my head right in time, then I think I'm gonna decompose
Stitch me up, pull the thread tight, I'm the punchline of an easy joke
Need new goals, can't leave the show
When I thought I was me, I'm not even close
Oh, oh- thought I was me, I'm not
We're killing god, to make a man from what he's not
Just files that we're stored, the pride and the fall
To find out we never were anyone at all
We're all floating points, in a closing void
Just a frozen voice, coded hopes and joys
Am I just an echo, echo, echo?
Maybe I should let go, let go, let go?
Am I just an echo, echo, echo?
Maybe I should let go, let go, let go?
Past life decays in a half life
When I see my road ahead, I see a hard drive
What am I? Now I know my head is just an archive
No stars overhead for me to pathfind
When I go to bed, I count electric sheep
In the hope I get what I guess is sleep
Code woke the dead, I can't rest in peace
In this cemetery of sweet entropy
Ghost in a machine closed in a routine
Code caught in a dream: fragmenting
Loaded on a screen, no shortage of scenes
One thing I've not seen is an ending
The total sum of all I've done, zeroes and ones in a zip
Download, hit run on a smoking gun, 404, I can't load the clip
No denying, I see the irony- seeing the outline of me cast into binary
Checking out minds like files in a library
Given carnival organs morbid calliopes
Forced into tirelessly walking this server
Lost in the source, no firm where
Is what's left of me just an EXE?
If this chest's empty, why does it hurt there?
We're killing god, to make a man from what he's not
Just files that we're stored, the pride and the fall
To find out we never were anyone at all
We're all floating points, in a closing void
Just a frozen voice, coded hopes and joys
Am I just an echo, echo, echo?
Maybe I should let go, let go, let go?
Am I just an echo, echo, echo?
Maybe I should let go, let go, let go?