The Escape

(アルバム： Prisoners - 2012)

Memory is fiction so the past is your invention
Catch yourself, self-dissect
How youth outlives age
How beauty shames skill
Prayer is for dependents and wish is for the will
A struggle for independence, a harmless stage
Art gaining post-mortem fame

Oh Creatice!
Your vibrant portfolio has never shone as brightly
As your latest masterpiece!
All efforts' fruition in such a wondrous offspring
How did you manage a piece so perfect?

Entrancing passers-by to lock eyes and gaze, hypnotized
Overcome with the need to outdo the last
A child born so dependent rebels so quickly once he has his footing
Forgets where and who raised him and how he came to be

But a growing pain cannot explain behavior of the like!
A perfect child deserves the best
But at the cost of what else, did you instill this need
To over-consume without regret?

Broken pencils, charred marble drafts
He leaves destruction in his path
Your one mistake, oh great Creatice
Was giving too large a brain

(This organ, like disease, can disseminate beyond your reach
You didn't predict this. A carnal rebellion in its wake)

Strike back with forces beyond his reach
That even six billion can't defeat!
Go lock up the aggressor!
Quarantine before it's too late!
Bred to lose sense of consequence
In his greed he exhausts your milk, your blood, your shelter
Don't let him escape!

Memory is fiction so the past is your invention
Catch yourself, self-dissect
How youth outlives age
How beauty shames skill
Prayer is for dependents and wish is for the will
A struggle for independence, a harmless stage
Art gaining post-mortem fame

Throw your blood upon his lands, your skin cracked and depleted
Suck the air from out his lungs, expose him fully, let him burn
Show him to appreciate, discipline the cruel ingrate
You still have the power to reshape do not let this escalate

Vapors vanish in the night
Statuesque guards, seconds too late
What rebellion possessed thee?
A dangerous subterfuge, a lonely rampage, anxious fleet
Like limbs tumbling horizontally

Now it's too late!
The child has escaped!
Indignant ties, parental constraints a child protected sets self free
And the ingrate will lay in the bed he has made
As a self-imposed apocalypse finally grants You peace