The words, for a lost generation
The words, for selling the illusion
The words, for a hopeless revolution
Words, yeah words, by the million
The words, to maintain the addiction.
The words, to force feed the population.
The words, for a cheap revelation.
Words, yeah words, by the million

I got all these words, scrambled, inside of my head.
Some nights I lay there, wide awake, thinking in my bed.
Instead of falling asleep, I keep on dreaming
Trying to figure out, the so-called meaning.
Trying find the reason, trying to find a balance.
Maybe making music, is my only purpose.
Scribbling down all these words, every single second of the day.
I know its absurd, but that's the only way.
That I feel right, that I feel alive.
That's why I write, until the pen goes dry.
I don’t know why, there’s just something inside.
I’m in a daze right now, i’ll get back to you in five.
Eyes stare out into the blue, lost in my oblivion.
Hands transcribes, what the brain has been digesting
The heart bleeds the ink, the art of expression.
Its Remission, with words by the million.

The words, for a lost generation
The words, for selling the illusion
The words, for a hopeless revolution
Words, yeah words, by the million
The words, to maintain the addiction.
The words, to force feed the population.
The words, for a cheap revelation.
Words, yeah words, by the million

I got a pocket full lint, I got a mouth full of words.
Scream at the top of my lungs, with a voice begging to be heard.
But only found deaf ears, in one and out the other.
Distracted over the years, captivated by what’s popular.
These words describe everything that I see.
My life is buried, in these books of poetry.
Pages and pages, chapters and chapters.
The ink flows, thicker than ever.
All that I have are these words, these dumb scribbling.
Its absurd, but these poems, are actually dripping with meaning.
Living in my songs, the art is breathing, the heart is pumping along.
Realize that its holding on, so strong.
Can’t let go, can’t stop, it keeps going.
Let it flow, just got, to keep writing.
Work in progress, the art of expression
It’s Remission, with words by the million.

The words, for a lost generation
The words, for selling the illusion
The words, for a hopeless revolution
Words, yeah words, by the million
The words, to maintain the addiction.
The words, to force feed the population.
The words, for a cheap revelation.
Words, yeah words, by the million