We who wore the sign might justly be considered "odd" by the world; yes, even crazy, and dangerous. We were aware or in the process of becoming aware and our striving was directed toward achieving a more and more complete sense of awareness while the striving of the others was a quest aimed at binding their opinions, ideals, duties, their lives and fortunes more and more closely to those of the herd. There, too, was striving, there, too, were power and greatness. But whearas we, who were marked, believed that we represented the will of Nature to something new, to the individualism of the future, the others sought to perpetuate the status quo
slave screams he thinks he knows what he wants slave screams thinks he has something to say slave screams he hears but doesn't want to listen slave screams he's being beat into submission don't open your eyes you won't like what you see the devils of truth steal the souls of the free don't open your eyes take it from me i have found you can find happiness in slavery slave screams he spends his life learning conformity slave screams he claims he has his own identity slave screams he's going to cause the system to fall
slave screams but he's glad to be chained to that wall don't open your eyes you won't like what you see the blind have been blessed with security don't open your eyes take it from me i have found you can find happiness in slavery i don't know what i am i don't know where i've been human junk just words and so much skin stick my hands through the cage of this endless routine just some flesh caught in this big broken machine
~Nine Inch Nails
well, you hate to watch another tired man lay down his hand, like he was giving up the holy game of poker. and while he talks his dreams to sleep, you notice there's a highway that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder. and now suddenly you look a little older. suddenly you feel a little older.
Leaning on your window sill he'll say one day you caused his will to weaken with your love, your warmth, and your shelter. And then taking from his wallet an old schedule of trains, he'll say, I told you when I came I was a stranger.
I see you in the subway and I see you on the bus I see you lying down with me, I see you waking up I see your hand, I see your hair Your bracelets and your brush And I call to you, I call to you But I don't call soft enough.
i'll be your ghost you'll be a dream you'll flow through me i'll disappear
i'll be your ghost you'll be a dream you'll flow through me i'll understand