Digital Sands Lyrics
A thousand Romes are set aflame
A thousand Neros sing their own refrains
Narcissus improved & enhanced
He gloats while backing in his arrogance
Conceit & pride are going viral
A globe that's reached it's critical mass
A pixilated downward spiral
Fixated on the looking glass
An endless temple, a shrine to your vanity
To worship yourself in the cult of me (in the cult of me)
Just squeaking wheels in a fuck machine
High resolution lies fill the screen
The lowest common dominator
Propaganda pitched by petty
An endless temple, a shrine to your vanity
To worship yourself in the cult of me (in the cult of me)
You worship yourself, in the cult of me
So what's the measure of a man
(We are the end)
Lost in shifting digital sands?
(We are the end)
And what's the standard supposed to be
(We are the end)
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When nothing is as it seems?
We are the end
You've trapped yourself inside this temple
Enraptured by your vanity
A sacrifice to your own image
A prisoner of the cult of me.
