Ex Machina's blog: "Deus Ex"

We've come too late, the time has come, I drown my faith in vodka and rum, I turn my back on all I can, I cannot see this master plan, Nobody seems to care anymore, While I'm walking through that door, I'm taking all my things away, I don't look back on yesterday. Sweaty mouse, sticky keyboard, Stained by a virtual whore, Clench my fist and close my eyes, I'm lost in an evanescent paradise. I'm drowned in sorrow, Who can live to see tomorrow, I'm alone, and I don't know why, I'm stemmed by consciousness, rigged to die. Psychadelia rainbow swirl, lock and key and light unfurled, Scene with iron and candle mirth, Giving way to my savior's birth. Deep within, stitched with lace, My eyes, my mouth, my whole face, Cannot see this master plan, End it all, this life of man.

I am silicon chrome. I am wallpaper bliss. Sent from Kubla Khan's dome, Something you can't miss. I am the sacred river. I am the Xanadu peak. Suffering poison liver, A living cigarette freak. I am second star forever. I am torn, wrent flesh. Not of the land of Never, Constructed of wire mesh. I am laudunum laundry, I am absinthe quake. Crashed the Microsoft foundry, Lost within my own sake. I am subterrainean security. I am transcendant ash. Caught within obscurity, in the Aethyr of Johnny Cash. I am liberal salvation. I am democrat anarchy. Trapped within a lost nation, In the room without a key. I am the psychadelic poster. I am the lunatic calm. To take you on a rollercoaster, Injected on cd-rom. I am beef-style marijuana. I am born of thought. Within me lies the faunae, Where instinct can be taught. I am porn on beta. I am crystal crap. Log on for the data, and stay to bust your cap. I am lawless order. I am painless rash. To linger on the border, in the Aethyr of Johnny Cash. I am the bastard noodle. I am the man-meat bag. Take this bloated poodle, and tie him with this tag. I am neural network. I am frosted pork. In the darkness may I lurk, where I'll hunt you with a spork. I am toe-up tired. I am sliver space. To he who I admired, now all hung up with lace. I am story captor. I am silent rage. To write another chapter, and tear it from the page. I am long-lost brother. I am year-old hash. I will never find another, from the Aethyr of Johnny Cash.