Operator under pressure from the maker   To take apart the tempered moments of decision   Now operator is calm but not very collected   And impromptu disproving feeds operator's doubts      This is where, this is where I can see   I can see everything, everything      It's a hand-held self doubt   Aborting its course for a new route   It's analysis paralysis   Arresting all perception of progress      When you lack lust trust or instinct   And message you send is not succint   You stand frozen still not knowing   That you killed yourself, oh hell you're gone   You killed yourself, oh hell you're gone