Hunt Of The Humans کے بول

The windowsill, balance of reality and fiction The walls barricade three dimensional dimentia Demographics undeniable Freeze-frame society blurs backward into the future No one feels 'till it's too late Understandings stripped away Confused I stumble falling Impenetrable, the pain surrounds me Lapsing in and out of reason Beyond the only reality The past is slowly dying Stronger than yesterday Weaker than tomorrow I think and try to rationalize all of this Tomorrow scares and thrills me But tomorrow just seems to mystify Analytical and conscious Regrouping, correct direction identified Struggle and realize no one's spared