Conditional constructality My vocabularity it shows flair for intensity I think little of you, but you think nothing of me Nothing, nothing Finding finality in songs of therapy Is like finding suicide in the hay Fucking like cowboy and cowgirl O’ how i sing high songs and praise Of such a lowly self Miserable in tone, miserable Itself I cannot help but think of when it all started Really all came apart from when i was half hearted I blame my self, i do Because no one would blame themselves for my muddied Hue The aura it’s all gone Up in smoke, up in the high heavens With my soul A carcass left behind, just a bone And some flesh, fatty like the gluttonous Ring of hell I think, you think, we think, they think I’m insane, i’m insane, i’m insane An elegy, eulogy Captain on the high seas, no boat in sight Fighting with might, i fight with nothing Maybe the kicks in my nuts made me go dumb eh? Maybe the brain damage from the beatings made me go crazy eh? Maybe the isolation of my peers made me go psycho eh? All such great questions, not a bead of sweat Not a drumbeat of resistance All look away, because i’m a car crash happening And when it’s over i’ll be an insta story happening Tell them o’ tell them that i was kind, but kinda a dick Go on the news and tell them i struggled, my how i struggled But against whom? Write your words, a speech at the funeral Say that you only wished you could’a done something sooner Eh?