Fascinated by my own reflection
No idea who is guilty or insane

Sick to the stomach by misconception
No concept of using my brain

Sexual proclivities an abomination
No desire to take a midnight train

Nothing left but piles of frustration
No arteries open but the main

Everything hurts and its all too big
Everything on the surface yet I still dig
Everything is broken so I steadily swig
Everything being evil makes love a good gig


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