Heat Death ft. Isaac Schutz

Fantasies of mechanic undead Vengeance for sins we commit Tragically grounded in the mundane Famine is right by your bed Sci fi titans the flesh they are fed Run off instinct to behead In reality nothing has flair We'll march through the heat to our death Fantasies of mechanic undead Vengeance for sins we commit Tragically grounded in the mundane Famine is right by your bed Stillness, a feeling of familiar Desire, a lack of experience A longing for what we’ve lost, what we don’t know What exists in the dreams of past selves memories A wish to conjure up a magical force to pin blame for the lack of rain Inability to hear my thoughts, a needle drop Serenity never has been seen It’s getting harder to breathe Empty your head and walk outside Witness the dwindling flocks fly by A slow moving chaos descending upon us Enemies created to explain away Monsters we lean on to save the day It’s hard to accept outside of a game What sacrifices will have to be made To gain shade, grain, some rest A longing for stillness Warm skylines dust my eyes Ashes rise Mech police can be beat But first Stand still, listen, listen There’s no glamour to be found in this situation Do or die, high crime, let’s go out with a boom No time to be afraid when the score says doom Bug mortality 90%, algae in bloom No place where waste isn’t up to the waist Food supply left with a terrible taste Oceans is toxic, the forest is rotted And these rich motherfuckers think they got it Digital this and technology that A quick fix with a beverage or a baseball bat A pocket full of magnets, a stroll around the block Another server farm down, a system laid in shock No bot deliveries, puppy dog machines Spray paint and a push, state surveillance wiped clean Throw fent on the cops, make the wealthy flee Make em rot inside the bunkers they retreat Warm skylines dust my eyes Ashes rise We’ll defeat mech police But first Stand still, listen, listen, look Fantasies of mechanic undead Vengeance for sins we commit Tragically grounded in the mundane Famine is right by your bed Sci fi titans the flesh they are fed Run off instinct to behead In reality nothing has flair We'll march through the heat to our death Fantasies of mechanic undead