escalator shrine

we are escalator walkers, in the brand new temple, came to reshape identities, shed our skins, be reborn, and feel the same, feel the same, that no one here is real, we are moving standees, in the shrine of choices, incarcerated between floors, of hope and disappointment, we feel the same, feel the same, that no one here is real, we feel the same, feel the same, that nothing here is still, we are stairway drifters, made by cyper paper, google boys and wiki girls, children of the self care, we come to pray every single training day, looking for a chance to survive, buying reduced price illusions, floating into another light, melting into another lonely crowd, we feel the same, feel the same, that no one here is real, we feel the same, feel the same, that nothing here is, still, used to have our love, and now disposable needs, used to have our souls, and now refined new skins, take, use, throw away, forget, dragging our feet, tired and deceived slowly moving on, bracing shake legs, against all those wasted years we roll the boulders of sins, up the hill of new days, the hill of new days, in the arms of the setting sun, our burdens cast shadows over fiery ground, catching final rays, we try to reach the journey's end before the sun will die, we sense we're almost there, but the night comes too soon, and we crawl in the dark, not ready to face up, to unknowing lies, we ache to go back, but we can't stop, but we can't stop, so we walk ahead, so we walk ahead, but we can't stop, but we can't stop, so we walk ahead, so we walk ahead