The Natural Poverty of Our Feeble and Mortal Condition Lyrics


The past is dead

A corpse cannibalized by the present

To be regurgitated in fear and greed

In endless justification and apologetics

Human agency and its offshoots

The years grind jumbled and broken

Regret, nostalgia, grief-at-nothing

Grief and sleep, combined, enchaining

Care itself, in its very essence,

Is permeated with nullity through and through