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Song title: Light This City - The Static Masses

Edit By: 216.73.217.147

Even when I was younger
I could feel your slimy sculptorÃ¯Â¿Â½s hands shaping every uneven feature of my body after your fantasies.
Forever crafted to a silent
Excessive perfection.
Fingers digging out all visible flaws, 
Yet you still arenÃ¯Â¿Â½t satisfied with your work.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never show a single sign that IÃ¯Â¿Â½m alive.
The time will come to break the chisel
That hacked away our trust.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never show a single sign I can defy.
You need to understand itÃ¯Â¿Â½s what youÃ¯Â¿Â½ve done to all of us.
As you approach, IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll always freeze right where IÃ¯Â¿Â½m standing, heart beating faster under the cold, 
Hard clay that has become my skin.
ItÃ¯Â¿Â½s buried so deep, 
YouÃ¯Â¿Â½d never know it was there. But youÃ¯Â¿Â½re seeking something.
I can see it when you examine my every feature for something more than what youÃ¯Â¿Â½ve designed.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never breathe or blink or look you in the eye.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never show a single sign that IÃ¯Â¿Â½m alive.
The time will come to break the chisel that hacked away our trust.
IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never speak or think or spit straight in your eye. IÃ¯Â¿Â½ll never show a single sign I can defy.
You need to understand itÃ¯Â¿Â½s what youÃ¯Â¿Â½ve done to all of us.
Weighed down by my own heavy splendor, IÃ¯Â¿Â½m just a statue to pose at your parties, surrounded by a stiff, leering mass groping for a feel of the new old trend.
But what more can I give you besides my rigid presence?