Holy Fucking Shit 40,000
Everything you do is planned out in advance
And the stars push their dark wills down on you
And wolves all tear themselves apart better in packs
It’s just a function that we will have to work on through
We’re machines that eat and breathe and look really cool
You’re reacting just the way I thought you would
And I’ve replaced my heart with metal parts
And I’m working out just fine, but I can’t get it to start
We’re machines that breathe and weep and look really good
Trained to kill
Send me back in time and I’ll bring us back in line
Just tell me whose mother I have to kill
I’m fine like I’ve always been, and I don’t remember when
My conscience wasn’t acting up again