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