open on a man sitting on a stage captivating the audience with his grim face “This is all your fault you just ignore the facts” muttered as the trigger's pulled and the audience laughs you're too busy groveling at the hands that refused to feed us if vanity is all we have sit back relax this moment won't last what's an artist to do when the entertainment's been compromised strapped to your seats eyes glued to a screen cognitive larceny pacifies five years I've laid in this trench hoping I could see you through it but this war only benefits the soldiers who surrender to gimmicks I'm too busy hemorrhaging from every orifice I could give a fuck about where you've been nor care when you desert us this moment wasn't meant to last to enjoy it while you can let's take a minute to discuss all the places we won't go the people who won't hear us the success we won't know you haven't any worth your art is pointless and that's coming from the guy whose point hasn't surfaced glory was made with tears sweat and blood you rescued the thirsty with piss in a jug I've come to terms with my obscurity I just hate to see my heroes accepting defeat

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