Line up realigned, blank canvases, in wait at the museum
Gates to brag/complain, it's all the same, you mummies
Will swallow your own dust and your permanent stay on
Display will go nowherevlest you forget we're all
Unraveling in idealism's bandages, twirling in it's cozy
Tomb, you'll succumb too, and all the reasons why you
Define what you choose will only make your fellow future
Relics hate you
