The Grand Skeptic
Artificial Language
Lucidly, they’re walking amongst the satellites
As feet converge with stone; each step they feel alone
Divergent ceilings falling?
Encapsulating lights?
Once the birds have flown, deficits will elope
A tree is said to bear the fruits which replenish their façade
A man can’t help but pray for substance
It’s a lossless art
Candid dreams are mocking the birds that wish to fly
This nest was built from loans, blood, sweat, tears and bones
Divergent ceilings falling?
Encapsulating lights?
Once the birds have flown, deficits will control what is left to take
Modernize our mistake
A tree is said to bear the fruits which replenish their façade
A man can’t help but pray for substance. It’s a lossless art
I’m not the god they wanted
In fact, I’m not a god at all
The father you say brought life will answer to no one
What is left to take?
Modernize our mistake
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