Limitations in manners nailed deep within
Spreading as internal flood
This pea
Burning a hole in the back of my neck
It will
I cut your wings the moment you think that you
I think today might be the day we’ll see it
You win the prize for being the first one
I wash
The most delicate master
The drive, the core of our source
No time to read the small print
wouldn't understand it anyhow
A
Can't afford the cost of a life
That would get
When you lose the first round
you call yourself reborn
Do you
Fuck!
Somebody knows where I live
Since when has it
I sense an intruder and my
Nerves are aching
Something
Ticking, that insane sound
We dance to the running of hours
Programmed
Certain to die and become an image of those deeds
No
Running out of solutions
Conscious or carried away?
Classify, separate, codify
Gone
The last few ones I was depending on
Shut down by
