“Are you supposed to be talking about that?”
Have the thrills of the ride wrapped your synapses in plastic? Should I stop reality for your feelings, fantastic spastic?
Again, we ask you to Stop what you’re doing, cowards want to feel safe in a fact den.
Harsh words are a necessary step in reflecting the harsh reality, but we all put a priority on the need to feel the imaginary, more than to understand the shared reality.
Family does not equal friends,
Just like Friends do not equal fans.
Entertainment does not equal integrity,
Just like Friendly does not equal friends.
Nobody cares in nothing ways until it becomes necessary to know you, including me.
I’ve watched myself say it a hundred times, yet regretted it more, But does my mind make me happy when everybody cares? And what for?
to Just stare. Alone, in a corner with your friends: experience, talent, and vision? its better than the nightmare of reality, that mental division.
Get a job, you fucking slob, you casually imply. Silence is a virtue of the assassin in the night, or a result of flying too high.
Don’t worry, night- I see you bright and clear.
You’re my determination, my drive, you’re my enemy, close and near. You’re my environment, my sustenance, my bed of roses with one poisonous thorn.
The secret slip of arsenic in the Kool-Aid I made for one, or more.
I won’t remember you specifically, but I know you better than one.
But then again, what does it take for one to know one? 3? I’ll never see. It cannot be…
Me playing tricks on the Social Chameleon in me.
— Social Chameleon– Written by Sean Martin, poem inspired by the self titled EP “The Quarantined”.
Buy the song, EP, or our whole Discography: