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p.y.l.o.t. (band) - an account of the product كلمات أغنية

she came to me wrapped in my mother’s skin. and she gave to me a plastic name and a porcelain face
“try these on” she said, “they’re better than the ones you already have.”
what was i to do? i’m just a kid and i need to be loved
i thought this love was worth it to me and that the price wasn’t too much to pay. so i gave my face and name away. now i’m just the same. we’re all the same
we have these eyes, these babydoll eyes, but they see nothing more than 1’s and 0’s, no sign of life, we march in line to the beat of a drone, we no longer hear in different tones, we are the clones. the helpless product
lost though not alone, we’ll fall in line
because she said to fall in line
hold on tight and fall in line
her words break through like breaking glass, she coos soft as the pin pr_cks, “pull it together, relax.”
pull the thread through fast, her words break through like pin pr_cks, “pull it together, relax.”
but she’ll give you what you want. a life without a rift, day in and day out bliss. a life blessed with ignorance. what more can we ask?
what more can we ask of her, she gives a mother’s love
sweet mother’s love, a tiny pr_ck is the only price we pay
if ignorance and happiness are all the things she gives
but in the end we’ll hear her say, in a single tone we’ll hear her scream
“fall in line
march in time.”
we will fall in line, we will march in time, for we are the product

- p y l o t band

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