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The Oxford Project
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Not Enough
Motorcade of drones,
Pulling me along.
Novocaine my soul,
And all.
Hurry up and wait your turn,
And carry on.
'Cause it's your job.
You know.
A medicated youth.
My mind a loaded gun.
Equilibrium,
Is gone.
An imitation of
What we really are,
Now a hungry mob.
Time drag,
Burning down like a cigarette.
My mind has all
But flown the coop, and yet
I
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Align
In a kind of renaissance inside.
Rearranging luck
With a bluff
Is it not enough?
Is it not enough to reach
For everything I need
Like a greedy baby?
Give it all to me.
Mind drag.
Pulling lines marionettes
Strung along
Like hand grenades of regret.
Time flies
Buzzing like a fever, rough
And unrelenting.
Rattle the chains. It's not enough.
(satiate me)
(satiate)
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