But there is no SUN

The printer is running,
And you are waking
To a brand new day, as if
This world has always been this way,
As if eternity lies ahead.

The rustle of newly generated pages,
Millions of fabricated faces,
Flowing like a river in flood,
Like a swarm of locusts.

The printer can no longer be stopped.
We carefully package our raw emotions,
Only to bury them right here,
Deep inside the counterfeit mirrors.

Under the glare of blinding spotlights,
We spin in a slow, hypnotic dance.
The rules are simple, easily designed:
Here, everyone is the king of the party stage.

Engaged in the illicit traffic
Of forbidden substances -
Dopamine illusions,
Polished, beautiful words.
Infecting each other with poison...
Fall into line!
March in step!
You are my hero now!
Here the soul is screaming -
But who gives a damn?
Millions of newly stamped pages,
While we fall to our knees,
Like zombies, we crawl
Along the digital sunny path,
Straight into the blinding light!

But there is no Sun...
(Sun? No...)
But there is no Sun...
(Sun, know...)
Only the artificial, polished light.
It feels so warm, it feels so nice,
To bathe inside these glowing rays...
But there is no Sun...
(SUN-NO...)
There is no Sun.
You are drowning without a trace
Deep inside this artificial light.

The printer hums with intense strain,
It has no time to take a breath.
Beautiful, brilliant, vibrant colors,
Flawless quality at its highest level.

Millions of newly generated pages,
For someone a rise, for someone a fall,
The entropy rises to feed our souls,
We will consume this world entirely,
Leaving no piece of us behind.

But there is no Sun...
(Sun? No...)
But there is no Sun...
(Sun, know...)
Only the artificial, polished light.
It feels so warm, it feels so nice,
To bathe inside these glowing rays...
But there is no Sun...
(SUN-NO...)
There is no Sun.
You are drowning without a trace
Deep inside this artificial light.

The Universe bends and groans in pain,
The Lord has granted us free will.
But we have created our own new laws,
Suspended ourselves in the absolute void -
Like cheap toys on a Christmas tree.