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Possessions

from Cancer Is A Gift by Cope

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about

(the television lulls you to sleep. the radio plays in the background while you work. the ads in the magazines and newspapers making up for over 50% of the printed material. we are being subjected to advertising terrorism. we are young billboards vying to fill the emptiness in our dull lives made apparent by the people selling us the exciting new cure. we deal with loss and depression by consuming. the new standard of bettering ourselves is buying toxic plastic garbage to make ourselves feel good. because truly getting to know yourself is too hard. so our lives become excess. who we are, depends on what we own. your stance is not yours, it was culminated from years of influence, moral conundrums growing like tumors being healed by the easy way out. we dont have to work hard to be happy. we just need to have money and nice possessions. the earth is dying. we're killing it. but we know that, because we watch it on a giant flat screen TV sitting on our cheaply made swedish furniture wearing our sweatshop sewn clothing. i will never claim to not be a part of this, i'm aware of my motions and my wrongs. i'm aware that it is becoming unavoidable to exist without supporting something corrupt secretly running in the background of every action we make. most humans are too greedy and oblivious to understand the big picture. but i see it, i hear it loud and clear. we dont deserve this planet. and i hope i'm alive long enough to burn down with it. i deserve it. i accept it. )

lyrics

extravagant indulgence of each mind's discerning tastes
its why we wallow in our excess and complain about the waste
depressed our needs stay unconcerned we're so obsessed with wealth
coveting the human face we separate from self

we're dreaming of a new language we're chasing a useless chase
we're bowing down to man a promised step refused to take
these humans often asking questions chasing points into the sky
a constant breathing chasing losing beating so afriad to (die)

a prophecy through grinding teeth burning brightly underneath
desired actions unattained unfufilled dead disdain
forged with the hands broken skin seeping from the ground again
so where's my throne? where's my gain? where's my grave?

a shedding pulse illusion:time we fill the void with death
we're yet to learn to live because we're scared to take a breath
taught to burn as fuel inside a dying, fucked machine
washing away the guilt watching the drain swallow our dreams

its a constant unbalance
i've got this iron mind
but my anticipation
is ruining me
i'm forgetting to breathe...
always forgetting to breathe

my body wants what it cant have
what my iron mind wont give
i refuse to forget the motions
breathing in uncomfortable skin

setting my iron mind
against itself
forgetting to breathe
my anticipation

credits

from Cancer Is A Gift, released August 1, 2010

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Cope Edmonton, Alberta

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