I have a headache rhetoric
And I'm so happy I could slit my wrists
This is an empty vessel lesson
A collective works of what the mystic insults
Oh, this is an arm of disorientation
A central nervous brain of terror
This is the heart of emptiness
Banging the broken bell of treason
Oh, these are words of ones that're lost
Absurd and cracked under the surface
This is a twisted awkward beacon
I have to do nothing about the great boredom
I have a headache rhetoric
I'm so happy I could slit my wrists
This is an arm of disorientation
This is an empty vessel lesson
Have to do nothing about the great boredom
Have to do something about the great boredom
This is where the universe ends
This is a fable of desolation
This is where the whole world crumbles
In an age of a reforming hero-femme
This is the face of victory at home
These are grammar casualties
This is a briefing for your unwanted money
This is cost and a scheme in stress
This is nothing worth repeating
These are characters of assassination