So let's tell a tale of one truth The idealized self that we are doomed to pursue Self-actualization's hard to gauge Though some still claim it comes with age As their quiet schemes and furtive dreams lie in wait Marking their own graves A breath of apathy and its sweet relief sets the stage For the dead decades The identity of every generation Passed down the line with a dimming flame Burn the receipt of greed and segregation Cherish the past relieved of shame Absolved a soul can settle on tradition Embrace the lofty and the sublime All we believe will turn in tunnel vision time As your quiet schemes and furtive dreams lie in wait Now set in your ways Your breadth of apathy and its sweet relief turns the page Unto the dead decades The gravity towards ego Breaks us over time Our perception narrows Nostalgia seals the mind Within this new unreason Dissonance may cry Let it sing the treason Protest this design If you cannot condone this atrophy You must stand alone against history