Songtext von Digital Sands

A thousand Romes are set aflame A thousand Neros sing their own refrains Narcissus improved & enhanced He gloats while backing in his arrogance Conceit & pride are going viral A globe that's reached it's critical mass A pixilated downward spiral Fixated on the looking glass An endless temple, a shrine to your vanity To worship yourself in the cult of me (in the cult of me) Just squeaking wheels in a fuck machine High resolution lies fill the screen The lowest common dominator Propaganda pitched by petty An endless temple, a shrine to your vanity To worship yourself in the cult of me (in the cult of me) You worship yourself, in the cult of me So what's the measure of a man (We are the end) Lost in shifting digital sands? (We are the end) And what's the standard supposed to be (We are the end) When nothing is as it seems? We are the end You've trapped yourself inside this temple Enraptured by your vanity A sacrifice to your own image A prisoner of the cult of me