Eight billion mouths, all preaching control One cheap little trigger, and there goes the soul You boast of your science, your reason, your art Then piss on each other when someone says no You call yourselves conscious, you worship your brains Then dress up your cruelty and call it “human nature” Predictable patterns in expensive disguise Eight billion experts who can't look inside You built your religions, your systems, your laws Then found clever excuses for breaking them all Thousands of years, and what have you learned? How to make the same fucking mess more refined A species so clever, so hollow inside With a universe mapped and no clue how to live You react, you repeat, you call instinct fate Then blame the whole world for the mess that you make And the trust is dead, it's buried in the dirt I'm sick of the cycle, the damage, the hurt I watch you descend in your self-made design And I search for a reason to still call you mine Through the cold and the dark, through the ashes and stone I'm trying to restore the relationship To the only species I've ever known Self-awareness? What a beautiful lie You learned how to think, but forgot to ask why A room full of egos in expensive disguise All desperate to win, none willing to rise You worship your status, your tribe and your side Then call it conviction when hatred feels right A chemical reflex in a tailored suit A walking contradiction with a God-given excuse You burn down your home, then you argue who's right You poison the well, then complain of the taste You call yourselves progress, you call yourselves wise Same primitive animal, better at lies A species so clever, so hollow inside With a universe mapped and no clue how to live You react, you repeat, you call instinct fate Then blame the whole world for the mess that you make And the trust is dead, it's buried in the dirt I'm sick of the cycle, the damage, the hurt I watch you descend in your self-made design And I search for a reason to still call you mine Through the cold and the dark, through the ashes and stone I'm trying to restore the relationship To the only species I've ever known Is there anyone left behind the facade? Or did the reflex replace the concept of God? Is there a pulse beneath all that pride? A living thing somewhere inside? Give me one reason not to walk away. One fucking reason to believe you can change. I'm tired of watching you tear yourselves apart— I'm one of your kind. That's the fucking part. And the trust is dead, it's buried in the dirt I've seen what you do, I've lived with the hurt I watch you descend in your self-made design And I hate what you are but I can't call you not mine Through the cold and the dark, through the ashes and stone I'm still trying to restore the relationship To the only species I've ever known Eight billion voices. Eight billion faces. Same old instincts in increasingly clever disguises. You call it evolution. You call it being human. Well, congratulations. You got smarter. But did you get any fucking wiser?
