driven

i could live in my hunger
i could live in my pain
i could live in the rhythms
that jump around my veins
but i’m moving like a piston
or like a machine
i am driven
what makes a man?

you can run from the darkness
looking for a light
try to pretend
what’s wrong is alright
but i can’t ignore the question
and hope it goes away
i am driven
what makes a man?

and in the silence of the night
you can hear your brain
dying
bit by bit;
it can never be regained
you soon must face the day
when your chance at understanding
has passed away--

you can say that asking questions
is a useless nervous twitch
you can say there are no answers
god is dead love is a bitch
but i feel a greater knowledge
pressing in on me
i am driven
what makes a man?

i could sculpt myself a lover
i could paint myself a friend
and insist to total strangers
pain’s a means onto an end
but my circuits have been programmed
the current’s in command
i am driven
what makes a man?

and in the deafness of the night
you can feel your brain
dying
bit by bit;
it will never be regained
you soon must face the day
when your chance at understanding
will fade away--

while you’re gaining ground
you’d better keep on getting hold
of the things you want to say
before you grow too old
then it will not matter
what tales you could have told
your memory stiffens
your heart is cold

if i satisfy my hunger
if i try to ease my pain
if i sing out loud the rhythms
that bubble through my veins
still i am a piston
i am a machine
i am driven
what makes a man?

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