Junky from n0n by The Amenta

Tumours, all of you.
Parasites basking in the static of televisions.
You are empty, sick and pale
Under the flickering streetlights.
Your voice is the chatter of radios
And of white noise.
Loudly saying nothing.
You are a disease,
Viral and stubborn.
Shame, failure, slow decay.
For all your struggle
You have achieved nothing.
Counting down to zero.

Shattered wreck shivering
In cool blue TV fire
Amphetamine grit
Living remotely
Keeping so distant
A fucking deadweight
A life by proxy
His retinas flicker with
Stock footage of genocide

Asleep at the wheel
Coasting in neutral
Psyche mirrored in
A crash victim's fender
Any detail blurred
Indistinct and degraded

This is the media junky
Humanity's dry husk
Incapable of abstract thought
On/Off/On/Off
This is the media junky
Complacently numb
Culture bought on credit
A montage of random edits

Nothing is sacred
Everything is disposable
The "truth" is a con
Information is power
Random fractured binary
A "fact" is a selling point
Everything too simple
An advertising swindle
In this red, rusted landscape

Asleep at the wheel
Coasting in neutral
Psyche mirrored in
A crash victim's fender
Any detail blurred
Indistinct and degraded

This is the media junky
Humanity's dry husk
Incapable of abstract thought
On/Off/On/Off
This is the media junky
Complacently numb
Culture bought on credit
A montage of random edits

Nothing concrete
All is plastic
Media is the corpse
And he is the vulture

His nervous system
A collage of school shootings
And hospital waiting rooms
Bloody pavements intersect
Images of catwalk fashion

Headline black bleeds into inkblots
Suggestion shutdown
His is a slow death

This is the media junky
Humanity's dry husk
This is the media junky
Humanity's dry husk
On/Off/On/Off

• Black Metal
• Death Metal
• Experimental Metal
• Industrial Metal
• Metal
• avantgarde metal
• Sydney