Dr Syntax - Sacred lyrics

We'd all like some praise But by the same token We'd all like to stay in line; Idle, fake notions Obliged to, aspired to And while we stay hoping Our time's due Must be a fine day approaching Waiting for a minor sign or vague omen A bright ray of light Or a shiny gate opening No one keeps an eye on the prize; Fate frozen There's no peace-of-mind trying to wait while the game's loading; Seize the controller Apply your mind to the grind like breaking up meat with your molars Sometimes I feel many people are soulless Beauty isn't in the eye, it's in beliefs of the holders Engraved on their being So in a sense when they only crave greater status they're a slave to what they're seeing God fearers are afraid to stop believing Similarly others stay blinking So they can block their demons It's all the same; Just a different way of stopping reason From prevailing; People stop and change with the seasons And squander meaning Talking of God and heathens We're all the same faceless flock on our way to obsoletion now [Hook x2] Does someone have to explain it? What's bad and what is sacred? ‘Cuz life's what you make it And once it's done you can't change it They're howling in their lairs They're barking at the moon There's people out there With no marbles left to lose Men and women seldom in a calm and pleasant mood With pressure bringing tension no balm can ever soothe Cracking under strain Ravished with a pain 'til they're acting pretty strange; Making animals look tame Incapable of hate, love embarra**ment or shame Strangers in a cave struggle out their living days The city bustles It's a shimmering huddle of twitching muscle Little wonder some become a bit befuddled People live in bubbles Keeping their opinions muzzled Restricted vision with a filtered funnel Facts remain obscure; Lines are blurred Every notion of emotion is enclosed in signs and words With no alternative you might prefer You better go set your mind at work Or prepare to spend some nights on curbs Fluorescent coats Ties and shirts Whatever the dress code The prize, or the dirt We're fighting of thirst before our final merge Under piles of earth with no feeling left in our final nerve [Hook x2]