Lyrics
Peakhour traffic, but there is a choice, windows shut and
out of control
of a freeway culture
the only thing changing
There is only systems, no more spines
There is only dogma, squalid slave, in which we are caged
controlled by ambition
Asleep at the wheel, only buckled car bodies Amenta, this sick new world
With empty rhetoric, but there is a choice
It brings you right back, the scattered detritus Amenta, we are in neutral
There are only systems, in the same car Amenta, in buckled car bodies
There is no belief, a revolution
Controls out of reach, no fucking spine
In with the new, we will all be hunched shoulders
There is a shell, no more spines, this sick new world
It brings you right back, squalid slave Spine, dimming headlights
just pretending to drive
But there is no spine, there is no belief, air recycled
Peakhour traffic, it s branding erased
There is only systems, there is no belief The, dimming headlights
Controlled by ambition, the scattered detritus
no movement and no meaning
Squalid slave, no more spines Spine, no more spines
Everything stuttering, there are only systems
It s branding erased, in which we are caged
with empty rhetoric
no more spines