Not Exactly That

Seems that my thoughts are described by the doodles in my notebook,
The subconscious has a way of communicating after all.
Make my head shake
The robots are fleeting, finally self motivation
This world is so personalized – that it is so impersonal
I can’t tell my face from the next
A preempted generation
Like begging for a name – that isn’t just the same
Fingerprints tell the unambiguous truth – that
I’m not just another one of you
Diversity catching my eye
Another windblown leaf avoiding the sky
It’s hard to find – that state of never mind
People with their headphones on
Keep the bubble turned up and keep the city turned down – while they miss me
Just another tree
It’s just to decorate with colored souls and human clones – that it’s another war
To regret about while someone else lies on the ground
Where does the campaign begin, to make – this – that.