Don't try to resist, you're coming with us.
provisions are made and combinations are met,
your words are recoded in the bleak genetics of the bog.
Praise! A pocket full of bittered and bled,
to relieve all the guilt pumped out of our sin.
we've sacrificed discourse at the feet of your clever turn-of-phrase.
now you owe it to us, we demand to be taken aback,
to be showed the revival of hope, for which your words are responsible.

Oh, it's the end of the line,
I'm quoted by pest in at the steering public eye.
My job here is done.
My job here is done(you're fucking welcome).

Retract, you have to light the candle to claim,
inspiration is cutting your flaws, regurgitate headlines,
or a theory on modern art.
You've been fooled again, the red herring's a joke.

I've tried so hard to tell you, that I tapped the world dry,
but there's no fire.
Stay with fallen young,
the affected are making us oblivious.
It's a drought of a bitter hope
and we're sold by the way they wrote it.

Oh, it's the end of the line,
I'm quoted by pest in at the steering public eye.
My job here is done.
My job here is done.

It is better to destroy,
than to create what is meaningless,
so the picture will not be finished.