The world is a neon daydream,
Drifting through the streets under the capitalist haze,
Targeted advertising screaming out at me,
Feeding the masses c–p we don’t need.
Maybe it means something to say that the price of craving wealth is personality,
And London is becoming a split reality,
One side has nothing and’ll lose everything still,
The other will do nothing and profit off the backs of others, corporate shills.
And they might be so different,
But they’re all similar,
Because the world’s a neon daydream,
And consumerism is making a scene.
Somehow all the lights and signs are making me blind,
Somehow the haze isn’t leaving my mind.