Black cloud mourning

Dirty machines
a whitewash of information
crashing thru the doors
my attention is needed,
never desired
on a dirty and black-cloud day
the babies awake, covered in sin
we look to the affection of our technology
hoping to be cured
this silent earth
overtaken by lies
and dirty machines

the craziness of candor so corrupted
completely consumed by us
and the careless creatures we created
with doors wide open,
they walk right in
and begin to mourn
and shed bloody tears for the massacre that has taken place
afraid, ashamed, and alone
technology killed them all

i can see over that mountain top
climbing my way,
finding my way
reaching out for you
so tired and drained,
i hope i can make a return trip
"keep your eyes on the prize", they would say
i think, therefore i am,
i will, because i can
so utterly destructive, i cannot be stopped
with victory at hand, i plant my flag
so light-headed, 10,000 feet above the sea
i have won
i am one... but alone

on top of the world,
i am still dominated
by a whitewash of information
created by dirty machines
and the fading memory of you