Blue Blind Bird - Stitched, Immortal

Yet another song that just came to me one day, this time in a more generic pop-style genre. Here it is on other platforms: Bandcamp: Spotify: Deezer: Lyrics: The secret to eternal life Imagined by their own design. Created to make people last, But what’s the use? Did no one ask? “Come and try it! Win the gamble! Be a hero - an example!“ They told us it’s good for the future of man, But as we were chosen the nightmares began. On the floor that’s furthest down below, In a place where nobody should go. Used to be a morgue - now in the past. Now they have a use for it at last. This is where us fallen people live - Not in coffins deep down underneath, Not at peace and not at all at rest With a thumping in our empty chest. They resent us, but they try To keep us on our legs, and not to let us die. We’re still rotting, still alive, But we wouldn’t call this a life. Our life is tiring, we’re not quite dying. Their life support cuts our chances short. We keep expiring, but they’re still denying. What’s all this entrapment for? We’re not surviving, no longer thriving. We’re kept alive, but we’re not told why. Our blood is pumping, they’re doing something, But they just ignore our cry. Somebody please pull the plug. We beg you, give it a tug. Somebody please pull the plug. (Just pull the fucking plug.) We beg you, give it a tug. (Just give it a good tug.) The secret to eternal life Imagined by their own design. They didn’t lie before our eyes, And now we’ll never reach the skies. “You will live long! You might like it! While it’s open you should try it!“ If only we knew what a bargain that was. Together we’re sewed and wrapped up into gauze. Now a mass of pulsing flesh and bone. Not a single soul was left alone, Stuck together, stitched and stapled shut - Now an undeserving cruel result. Oh, so many decades since we’ve been Ripped apart and gutted at the seams, Trapped inside our decomposing skin. They don’t practice science - only sin. They destroy our human minds, They place us on the very edge of our demise. And you know what happens next, But just in case you’re still perplexed... Our life is tiring, we’re not quite dying. Their life support cuts our chances short. We keep expiring, but they’re still denying. What’s all this entrapment for? We’re not surviving, no longer thriving. We’re kept alive, but we’re not told why. Our blood is pumping, they’re doing something, But they just ignore our cry. Somebody please pull the plug. We beg you, give it a tug. Somebody please pull the plug. (Just pull the fucking plug.) We beg you, give it a tug. (Just give it a good tug.) We are not a person, not a mortal, not a soul. We’ve gone through conversion. Though immoral, now we’re whole.