I'm trying to wade through the pestilence,
Swear if sin was moisture, I'd be the human desiccant,
Keep turning around to catch a bit of malcontent,
Laid on thick while losing track of common sense,
And if that's not enough to make you hell bent,
On finding out just where the hell the passion went,
Well then maybe you were never meant,
To purge the earth of all its sins and deficits;

I can see you chewing on your thesis,
With your molars breaking it to pieces,
Turns out you really cared about the means,
You gave up on finding reason,
Stores selling made to break commodities,
Seems to me capitalisms is over used like similes,
In the meaningless streams of inconceivable thought,
That are wrought in the hot media onslaught.