Narcissus in the cathedral
Calls his sermons dialectical
But it's a vanity so toxic
It almost feels apocalyptic
A revolutionary in cargo pants
Apple systems, trotsky chants
Fanny-pack Messiah aesthetic
Turning doors to stained-glass relics
Everything carries the same perfume
And the same stretch effect in the daw
Honey, money, public
Private, isolate, cathedral
Incense, coffee, smoke
Honey, money, public
Private, isolate, cathedral
Incense, coffee, smoke
He loves the sound
Of his own analysis
Red expressionist banners hanging
Like institutional paralysis
Public money builds his altar
Private circles praise the author
The girls' compositions sound too naïve
Just like mine, ai-generated and tonal to me
Everything carries the same perfume
And the same stretch effect in the daw
Honey, money, public
Private, isolate, cathedral
Incense, coffee, smoke
Honey, money, public
Private, isolate, cathedral
Incense, coffee, smoke
And baby, you're too beautiful to stay here
This place was made for bald marlon brandos
Quoting prophets nobody listens to
Beneath fluorescent halos
They romanticize exhaustion
Mistake ego for devotion
Another genius in the mirror
Giving lectures to his own reflection
Another artist
Framed and domesticated