laid out flat on my backnthe hours turn into days that burn away into the black nmakes me see in different waysnI'm soft underneathnthe surface not my strongernand I'm holding on but I can't wait much longernI've got this reeling feelingnI'm got this burning yearningnas though the paint in peelingninside my headndecay on displaynfor you to witness to a self-fulfulling prophecynthe loss of my humanitynnervous having scratched the surface, laughing at my lack of purposenif you're part of the crown you're an insectnbeen there, done that, fuck itnI'm not apathetic nI'm not sympatheticnold man I want to flip your carnturn your life upside downndivide intervention or natural selectionnit's justice, it's purenI want these hills to burn