Sunrises and sunsets mean nothing to me,
I am nothing, another bug in this cockroach motel.
Scurrying around the floor before
being squished by the foot of the Almighty.
We are an infestation, a demonstration,
that god waits far too long before extermination.
A blast from a bomb is what lets us survive,
but the foot of a god sets us to rest?
We have no chance, evolution is our only solution.
But indeed, we are a failure to our own success,
we can go no further.
Some may flourish, climbing higher and higher among the floors,
but i'll still be another bug in this cockroach motel.