Panopticon

Safe in your silicon shell. A cell in a server: Silent observer. Staring at solitude eyes... green and unblinking: The thought before thinking. Panopticon. Analog heart flat-lined and digitized. A shell for a skull and a body to commodify. Under the light we survive inside this between. But we lose ourselves and retreat to screens. "Our name is legion. We outnumber the stars. We have come to absolve you." They see all but we see one. Shut down the system. Burn away the veil. What waits? A face behind a face behind a face. Reverse the network. Burn away the veil. And you'll find a face behind a face behind a face. All the lies - we're pulling cables from our spines.  The culture is charged, amplified, then polarized. But our nerves are dulled and our souls lobotomized. We sleep with pixels in a dream machine but we lose ourselves and retreat to screens.  Shut down the system. Burn away the veil. What waits? A face behind a face behind a face. Reverse the network. Burn away the veil. And you'll find a face behind a face behind a face. Unto us a program is born: Holy Virus, Taker of the Earth.