At first I see an open wound
infected and disastrous.
It breathes chaotic catastrophe,
it cries to be renewed.
It's tears are the color of anger,
they dry to form a scab.
To the touch, it's stiff and resilient,
underneath, the new skin breaths.

It's all been saved,
with the exception for the right parts.
When will we be new skin?

As outwardly cliche' as it may seem,
yes, something under the surface says, "C'est la vie."
It is a circle, there is a plan,
dead skin will atrophy itself to start again.
Look closely at that open wound,
see past what covers the surface.
Underneath chaotic catastrophe,
creation takes the stage.

It's all been saved,
with the exception for the right parts.
When will we be new skin?

It's all been seen,
with the exception for what could be.
When will we be new skin?

Until The 20th Century
Reality Was Everything
Humans Could Touch,
Smell, See, And Hear.
Since The Initial
Provocation Of The
Charted Electromagnetic
Spectrum, Humans Have
Learned That What They
Can Touch, Smell, See, And
Hear Is Less Than One
Millionth Of Reality.

Fallacious cognitions
spewed from televisions
do mold our decisions.
So stop and take a look,
and you'll see what I see now.

It's all been saved,
with the exception for the right parts.
When will we be new skin?

It's all been seen,
with the exception for what could be.
When will we be new skin?