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Do you ever lie there on your bed
After another day of minadering by
The question remains why is it so?

Seems the world is sleeping in a
state of televised apathy
Who are the ascended ones
and why is it so?

We're just dots in this
ever shrinking globe spinning spinning
All resemblance light years away
In re-entry its burned away
And the residue is mislabelled mankind
A once glorious past somewhere down this lense

We're all programmed to act this way
Aim for the stars, they know only few will see
All but the lucky ones feel abused
Why were we laid?
Simply to edify the few?

Shadows paint the scenes
On this ever expanding canvas
Telling of unfulfilled dreams now living in eternal regret
The masses making Benjamins for all but themselves
Living week by week
While the few save for what they know they can't buy

All blades of grass the sun will soon enough forget
All slaves to the system, a star that seems to favour only some
Look down this microscope and see
the ant it knows its place
knows it is just one of many
its role clearly defined, specified

If they had just five minutes again
Would the script and actors remain the same?