I had my last real-life conversation back in my infancy
You might call this exageration, but that's how it feels
We praise it modern communication

Let's face what it really is
A process of isolation in its infancy


And this child will grow 'til it spits on our heads
And we will drown maybe not in spittle, but sure in regrets
Cause of everytime when we missed not to log in to the void


There grows an already lost generation feeding itself with posts and tweets
Growing fat from dumb-ass quotations... hunger for more they breed

This $#&@ed up blind elation they imbibe from there infancy
I know I'm part of this whole constellation, but I refuse to breed


Cause this child will grow til it spits on our heads
And we will drown maybe not in spittle, but sure in regrets
Cause of everytime when we missed not to log in to the void