Modern Robotic Bitterness

Such sweet sorrow
Bleak tomorrow
Floating forward
Moving toward
nothing.

This is my feeling
at the moment.

I feel like life
has no meaning
and pointlessness reigns.
I feel like the knife
toward which we're leaning
won't solve any of our pains.

I think that idiocy is now
beautiful to most
and it makes me sick.
Reality took its final bow;
immorality can boast
it knows what makes them tick.

I feel like murder isn't crime,
speaking of immorality;
it's just a game.
I feel like street grime
has more personality
than people with fame.

I feel like church is dead
and religion hand-in-hand
despite your belief.
I feel a surge of dread;
don't you understand?
I need to feel relief.

I think politics are empty threats
to countries we percieve
aren't as good.
I think when people lose their bets
they start to believe
they're misunderstood.

I believe that honor and trust
are long passed away
but good riddance, right?
I believe that those who must
hide their pain will stay
alone to face the coming night.

Value was slaughtered by want
Wish was murdered by power
The faces around us are gaunt
mine has become a glower.

I feel sick to my stomach with fury
and I feel hurt and depressed.
I know that, without doubt or worry,
It'll only get worse, I guess.

In the right position I could point blame
at worker, senate, or mayor
Sadly, in this twisted game
I'm just another player.