YOU CARE ABOUT NONE BUT YOURSELF
FORSAKE ALL ELSE FOR WEALTH
THERE WILL BE NO CONSCIENCE ROUND
UP AGAINST THE WALL THEN IN THE GROUND
NO MERCY TO BE FOUND
FOR THE FUCKING CROWN
CONCRETE AND METAL, STRETCH TOWARD THE SKY
A MONUMENT TO YOUR PATHETIC CONSUMERIST LIFE
TREBUCHET STRAIGHT DOWN, VICERA BLAST
ORGANS SPREAD VAST, RELIC OF THE PAST
BUILD YOU EMPIRE THEN IT’S FUCKING GONE LIKE THAT
LIKE THAT, DEAD LIKE THAT
LIKE THAT
ON YOUR BACK
LIKE THAT
DEAD
ROT, UNMARKED YOUR LIFE A WASTE
DISCARDED MACERATE INTO PASTE
CRUSHED BETWEEN THE BRICKS YOU MADE
AFTER HEAD DIVORCED BY BLADE
DEAD
YOU CARE ABOUT NONE BUT YOURSELF
FORSAKE ALL ELSE FOR WEALTH
WHEN YOU DIE I HOPE IT HURTS THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME