It pays to killnAnyone who has informationnIn the park, we hide behind rocksnWe urinate on rocksnUntil the sun comes upnEncrypted in fleshnConcrete soaked in sweatnWe lived in Lake SomersetnIt was south of Dallas HighwaynJust east of a drained lakenOrchids dissolvenEquations solvednPsychic landscapenTo know there is a limit to what you can experiencenThese walls I know, I grew up heren(No satisfaction)