The Natural Profane - Mannequin City [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Natural]

Lyrical dosage
One hundred milligram substance
Trickling into your subconscious
I grab this game up by its haunches and hurl it into darkness
Faster than missiles from rocket launchers
So it wouldn’t be a stretch to say that Natural bombs shit
‘Cause my anger is constant
I’d rather rot inside a slimy sarcophagus
Than coexist with a species I have nothing in common with
I’m not a product of my environment
My environment’s a product of the fucked up people living inside of it
Besides the oxygen flowing through my esophagus
Me and mankind are complete opposites
Two totally different creatures
With different patterns and behaviors
Biologically unrelated
Yet so familiar with mankind’s misery
It feels like me as a human being has been here for centuries
Walking slowly through the streets of Mannequin City
A land devoid of all that is living
So abandoned and windy
Looking like some ghost town from the Gold Rush of the 19th century
And aside from the occasional
Tumbleweed that passes so swiftly
You would’ve thought that it was empty
Wearing American Apparel jeans, they stare at me
Eyes open, emotionless
Prepared to speak
Pale corpses stand as still as a portrait
Wearing chains too heavy for their necks to support it
It’s morbid
As they disintegrate in silence
The gap between reality and imagination widens
Conspicuous consumption
With no soul or a conscience to haunt them
Only the Louis Vuitton garments and bracelets
Their spellbinding gaze is as blank as the smiles I see painted across their faces
Outer appearance is everything to a mannequin
Their vision restricts them from seeing what people have within
Yet beneath the exterior there is nothing
Sometimes I feel forgotten
Doomed to forever live among them
What kind of purpose does it serve to put
A person on this earth
And then desert him at his birth with no
Companions
No noises
Interaction is pointless
At least in solitary confinement you hear
Voices
Walking slowly through the streets of Mannequin City
A land devoid of all that is living
So abandoned and windy
Looking like some ghost town from the Gold Rush of the 19th century
And aside from the occasional tumbleweed that passes so swiftly
You would have thought that it was empty
The sands of time erase the memory
Population zero; EST unknown
Now entering