π΅ A Prisoner of Progress
π Released on September 9, 2024 | β³ Duration: 00:03:33 | π‘ AI Model: Suno
π Lyrics
The clock ticked, a metronome for madness, as pigeons tap-danced on a screen of glass. A man in a suit, his face a vacant map, swallowed fluorescent dreams and swallowed fast. He rode the metal serpent, scales of steel, past billboards screaming promises untold, of happiness in plastic, pre-packaged deals, and lives more vibrant than their stories bold. His phone buzzed, a symphony of need, a chorus of notifications, urgent pleas. He scrolled through faces, filtered, smooth, and freed, from wrinkles time had etched with gentle ease. A woman in a dress of swirling light, danced on a stage of pixels, cold and bright. Her laughter echoed, hollow in the night, a manufactured joy, devoid of true delight. He watched, transfixed, a puppet on a string, pulled by desires he could never sing. The world spun faster, a dizzying fling, a carousel of chaos, where nothing made sense, it seemed. A robot waiter served him lukewarm soup, while drones buzzed overhead, a silent troop. He ate in silence, lost within the loop, a cog in the machine, forever doomed to droop. The pigeons on the glass began to sing, a discordant melody, a mocking ring. He closed his eyes, and let the madness cling, a prisoner of progress, trapped within its sting