L.C.D Songtext
von The Tooth

Mirror of souls, divine gift or fortuitous
Mirror of the soul, I beg for purpose
Entering a state lethargic and numb
Writhing for days, melancholic hum
The days blending together, rejecting the sun
Getting bored yet
Yapping for months behind a fucking screen
Over and over reoccurring fever dream
The ways of LCD
Path of LCD
Immense knowledge at a finger′s tip
Cast aside, embody selfishness
Premeditated anomaly, passionless grub
Revolting and hungry, a thirst for reaction Never unfurled, never quite quenched
Never blooming
Mirror of souls, habitually pious
Mirror of souls, we're begging for purpose
Dreary lives spent emulating extravagance
All hail the digital ledger
Carve onto its cave walls
Docile waste congeals
Docile waste congeals
Echo chamber chapels
Never the problem, always the solution
Inconvenience a new cardinal sin
Always the solution