You dress up in your most becoming boredom
To do your act for a sleepy audience
You grace them with your heartfelt shallowness
And mistake their indifference for admiration
Give them what you think they crave for
You draw your art from god's own non-substance
And touch it up with your favorite clichès
You'll never be anywhere close to something even slightly real
You can't see the nothingness for the nothings.
For the nothings…
You take your pride in hard-earned sanity
Year after year prepearing for humdrum life
You secure yourself behind a shield of irony
To scared to stand up to possible scorn
Your head is completely filled with useless information
You sure make a mass of soulful pointlessness
Everything accepted upfront and done better before
You'll never be anywhere close to something even slightly real
You can't see the nothingness for the nothings
For the nothings…
Go on, chew your cud, just don't spit it in my face
There always be zeros like you
Guess we need you subhumans too…
