The Modern Man

Hello, I am the modern man

Take a look at my hand,

Yes! Right there at the fingers

Yes, this is what these blisters mean:

I press

I press all the time

Press is the essence of mine.

Impress, depress

Impress, depress

Impress, depress

Impress, depress

Just, press all the time.

Phones, sticks,

Drones, switch

Votes, ditch

Just press press all the while

And those press: my mental impress.

My soul I’ve pressed

Even God I’ve compressed

My life I’ve compressed

Within the digital express

Digitally oppressed and repressed

Oppressed, repressed

Oppressed, repressed

Oppressed, repressed

Oppressed, repressed

Just press press all the time

As always, the privates my empress

Emperor and empress

Yes, I am the press

I have to be the press

Pressure in my blood

Pressure in my job

Pressure for fame, pressuredly tamed

Pressure Pressure Pressure

The modern man

Clinically depressed:

I am the modern man…

(Oh! Shut Up I've started to touch)

Hello, I am the modern man

Take a look at my feet,

Yes! Right there at the underside

Yes, this is what these blisters mean,

I run

I run all the time

Run is the essence of mine

Overrun Outrun

Overrun Outrun

Overrun Outrun

Overrun Outrun

Just run all the time.

Grounds, streets

Sounds, deeds

Foolpitch, spaceship

Highways, sellways

Just run run all the while.

And those dyruns,

My mental key-run

My essence I have outrunned

Even God I’ve burned

Yes burned and ruined

For the digital forerun

Digitally drunk, wrung

drunk, wrung

drunk, wrung

drunk, wrung

drunk, wrung

Just run all the time

As always the privates my ruin

I run,

The modern man

Actually runned (over)

The modern man…

(Oh! Shut Up I've started to fly)

Hello, I am the modern man

Take a look at my head

Yes! Right there at the top

Yes, this is what this colour means,

I’ve dyed

I dye all the time

Dying is the essence of mine.

Yes,

I am a dire…

I died and I continue to die

I die all the while.

I press and I run

Yes,

I press and I run

I press and I run

I press and I run

I press and I run

So I can forget me dying

Constantly dying…

Pressing running dying

I dye and die

Everything I dye

And make it die

Hair, soul

Persona, hole

Life, God

Yes life itself

And God Himself I’ve dyed

No, he hasn’t died

He has been dyed

By those:

Pressurizing rundies

I am the press, the modern man

I run and die.

I get runned over by life’s dark reality

To save me from it, bright the stars are supposed to be

What an Irony.

I, the modern man…

Run and Press

For the impress and empress

And I die, depressed…

That’s all of my life…

I can’t run after that…

Death and I am done…

The modern man…

(Oh! Shut Up I've started to touch, fly and live long: Bless me!)