Austerity The Ocean Collective

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Pouring whiskey in dried-out bodies
Coarsely hewn by wood and love
Deep inside them smolders slowly
Thick as yeast, green bitterness
Helpless, their eyes are blind
And all their thoughts are simple
Their ears are deaf
And all their songs are trivial
Their loves have gone sour
And all their looks are vacant
Their food is foul
The art they make lacks the challenge

All their minds are empty
All their thoughts are simple
All their songs and books are trivial
All their ears are deaf

Birds who once flew with passion
Can easily be caught with bare hands
Locked in cages, learning their lessons
Bullets for the already-dead
Tasteless, our tongues are dumb
And all our speeches are hollow
Our minds are numb
And all our books are hollow
Our lobes are sour
And all our looks are vacant
Our food is foul
The art we make lacks the challenge