.algorithm

8-1-6
2-8-9
14-41

We're one in the same
A story's end, a written epitaph
In binary code
Bereaving is editing

A simple choice, a tiny death
Parallel, it swings to the left
A staunch reminder of the solace we seek
In means and measures dictated by machines

Set into harmonic motion
It'll leave you screaming at a wall
Of digital distortion
Right never comes before the wrong

They all walk among us
No need to go it alone
Wasn't what you expect
No need to go it alone
Was it what you expect?

A dark fog hanging overhead
Clouding judgement and perception at the palm of a hand
You'll always be alone
We become what we behold
And as sand slips through fingers
And strings are pulled tight
Art is anything you can get away with
Art is all that makes wrong right

They all walk among us
No need to go it alone
Wasn't what you expect
No need to go it alone
Was it what you expect?