Forced out from the books you've bought,
To find a fucking job.
The curtain closes as you flail your arms up in the air for a lie.

Remember what they told you about all those abstract theories,
Through self indulgent hours at your expense.
Certified custodian of adults' bedtime stories.
The black hat sure felt great warmed by all that steamy shit.

Like cattle, we're prodded to walk a straight line.
We're far too apathetic just to open our eyes.
Spine first nowhere.
Spine first nowhere.

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