Masters To The Slaves Lyrics

In a time of mass migration, from rural lives to factory lines

Taylorism was in season, bringing time to timeless lives

Just-in time production, we had to sacrifice

From crop rotation seasons to fiscal quarterly lives

And what became of us, and what became of them

We're the masters to the slaves we've unknowingly become

Though we understand their reasons, Stockholm Syndrome has its price

You're a shadow of your true self, a facsimile of life

You could stoop down to their levels, look them straight in the eye

You can make a deal with the devil, try to psychoanalyse

And what were once their reasons have now become our lies

This is what we're left with, we can't just turn back time

And what became of us, and what became of them

We're the masters to the slaves we've unknowingly become

Though we understand their reasons, Stockholm Syndrome has its price

You're a shadow of your true self, a facsimile of life

And what became of us, and what became of them

We're the masters to the slaves we've unknowingly become

Though we understand their reasons, Stockholm Syndrome has its price

You're a shadow of your true self, a facsimile of life

Schadenfreude-based humour in your electronic mail

Selling sand to the Egyptians, employing economical truths

Breaking through that cold glass ceiling, climbing hypothetical heights

Attempting to find meaning in our plastic soulless lives