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Description
They try. God bless them, they try. But they can't. Little dead people walking through dim hallways. There is no life here. No spirit, no soul. They've all been crushed with the best of them. Blandness drilled into their heads since day one. Sit still, don't talk, don't think, blend in, be the same. Oh, you can wear your heart on your mismatched sleeve, but why? We're all going to shun you for it. You'll be alone, tripping through this grayness without a hand to grasp. Then what are you going to do? Fall deeper and deeper? No, no, that's a fate you don't want. Much better to thrust yourself headlong into the churning, chattering mass. Get thrown around in the well-dressed crowd, in one day and out the other.

Oh, push constantly toward that center!

You'll be there then. In with the mind-numbing, glowing ones, with those who claw and cling to the fads so far away. But we can't keep up. Never will we have any of our own. Creativity -- that's for the snobs. We don't need that here. There will always be someone to leech off of. In the middle of nothing, everything, that's where we are. We, the cold, walking dead ones. You're looking for life? That's long since gone. Keep going, go, away from here. Maybe then you'll find it.

Description
They try. God bless them, they try. But they can't. Little dead people walking through dim hallways. There is no life here. No spirit, no soul. They've all been crushed with the best of them. Blandness drilled into their heads since day one. Sit still, don't talk, don't think, blend in, be the same. Oh, you can wear your heart on your mismatched sleeve, but why? We're all going to shun you for it. You'll be alone, tripping through this grayness without a hand to grasp. Then what are you going to do? Fall deeper and deeper? No, no, that's a fate you don't want. Much better to thrust yourself headlong into the churning, chattering mass. Get thrown around in the well-dressed crowd, in one day and out the other.

Oh, push constantly toward that center!

You'll be there then. In with the mind-numbing, glowing ones, with those who claw and cling to the fads so far away. But we can't keep up. Never will we have any of our own. Creativity -- that's for the snobs. We don't need that here. There will always be someone to leech off of. In the middle of nothing, everything, that's where we are. We, the cold, walking dead ones. You're looking for life? That's long since gone. Keep going, go, away from here. Maybe then you'll find it.