Ripped and broken bodies on the floor,
repeating everything they're told.
Just another product of familiar oppression.

Return to your cell.

Swamped into the pit.
Brought with dead ends to your now useless feet.
Crawling as you weep, for nothing to achieve.
Drag your cutted wrists as I fall the whip on the back of the weak.

They're all fucking weak.

I think they're all weak.
I see they're all weak.
I know they're all weak because they won't
move a single fucking finger for themselves.

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