Ratings are a means to make you seem sympathetic
You make me cringe
Speaking with that firm tone, but clearly apathetic
I hate you so
For you push for death, pain, and all that's diabolic
When will this go?
Oh, this is just a job for you
Oh, her death was graphic
but you insisted it had to be shown
Oh, this is just your paycheck now
Oh, two years old and dead
As you crave laudation as her body's shown
And death is a reality
Numbingly increasing your visual vitality
Don't act as if you care, my friend
End all of this bullshit, we can tell it's just all pretend
Recheck your fucking passport, man
Shame, you get another free trip to a different land
Omit your true identity
No one is ashamed of any moral complexity
Oh, this is just a job for you
Oh, How death is graphic
but you insist that it has to be shown
Oh, this is just a paycheck now
Oh, a dead man is dragged
As you crave laudation as his body's shown
Camera's will always be on
Or you will serve no meaningful purpose and be outdone
Options have no purpose for us
Prescripition for chaos is such a profitable must
Entitling you to be upfront
Restoring your strict dedication not to be the runt
When will you go?
You make me sick
You make me cringe
I hate you so
Spoiler! :
Gender:
Points: 1260
Reviews: 102