 This is it
Nothing has ever been any clearer
The little voice inside my head says:
Finish me
I am defected
Resurrected
Then rejected
Born to catastrophe
That's how I know you're right
Makes no sense
Now I think there's something wrong with me
There's something wrong with you
Photograph for the inoculated.
It's a scab. Infected, incubated.
Hide the cure, no one is worthy of it.
Make this pure.
I won't lie
But if I tell you the truth you will run
I won't try
But honestly this is so much fun
Born
And then live
Now you die
Repeat it, repeat it
But you kick.
And you scream.
And you cry.
Why me? Why me?
Yes, you're the one that we want
No denying
Photograph for the inoculated.
It's a scab. Infected, incubated.
Hide the cure, no one is worthy of it.
Make them pure.
I won't lie
But if I tell you the truth you will run
I won't try
But baby I'm having fun
Please let me explain everything.
Violence to unblock the sun.
Violence is the only cure.
Maggots will be the monetary.
Kill me to make something scary
It is a crime
It's a drug
Make the choice
Make your choice
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