zeke lindgren - thesis lyrics
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lost in my thought, the heart of the process
hold to the flax, not yet to be worn
by destiny or by chance intended or unplanned
null to the ruse, proves subject to scorn
chrysalis, gelatinous mess
a domestic puree
metamorphosis
remolding the soul to the brain
no god exists, aside from all the cognitivity combined
it’s all we are
and through a grid aligned
we un+restrict our limits of sp+ce and time, evolving on
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