The Great Depression

Storm clouds spreading
 Black horizons oil slick the southern sky
 What prospects should I gather here to motivate my corpse to rise?
 Bloodshot
 My eyes reject the staleness of this day
 And 'reason' gives purpose for all the pills i have to swallow
 Driving
 My heart is dead and hollow
 Metal boxes racing by
 Ringing out the death of my life
 Machines buzzing
 Towers looming the antithesis of nature
 Entering this asphalt tomb- self - interest my prime dictator.
 Now that i stand to carry the weight - try to conceive me that it's all for
 something?
 Now that i stand to carry the weight
 I lie to myself... am i living-dead?
 Four walls surround me with wires outstretched- the triumph of time over
 space
 The modus vivendi- each man for himself
 Each alone
 And each an island
 Get me out of this hole somehow... get me out of this hole right now... my
 great depression
 By PhMetal