we were searching for some kind of love
|
will this human bowl every be filled
|
when we're so distracted anyway
|
talking about eating peanuts for another day
|
|
appalled by what i see
|
as nothing less
|
than manufactured images of my happiness
|
insults all over work
|
humanity
|
and corporations dictate who's a slave
|
and who is free
|
|
well they said
|
desire would design the market
|
but if you have the money
|
you can plant desire in peoples heads
|
and make them believe
|
they need something that they don't
|
people buy an image before they buy their food
|
and if we keep selling based on people's insecurities
|
we'll just make them bigger
|
and perpetuate mass blindness
|
|
they're leaving the movie theatre
|
he wants a hercules happy meal
|
he wants a T-shirt, the sneakers, and the sword
|
hes only four but he's learned to consume til he's bored
|
hes only four but he's learned to consume til he's bored
|
|
and i amuse myself by thinking about a day that i might see
|
where every product that is sold reminded us to be
|
where the extrernal consumption is merely temporary
|
if you want real love,
|
if you want real love,
|
comsume internally
|
if you want real love,
|
comsume internally
|
if you want real love,
|
comsume internally
|
|
-----------------
|
Peanuts
|
| Sheila Nicholls |
