Over saturation is the life-blood of our world
Second after second
Mixed message-sending swirls
But which image is applicable to me?
Which one’s a mirror to my soul?
My singular conformity
So boringly unfashionable
Which saturates my soul with glee?
Perhaps there is no knowing
In the pixels of the self
Perhaps their instant death upon the screen
Reflects a part of me
And don’t want to repeat
They’re now out-dated and out-felt
All we have to do is make a click again
To see what’s next up on the screen
Forget the radio
Forget the books my parents read
The solid word is dead
All around us many different headless voices flow
Is it any wonder,
I’m not sure which way
My body blows