Thought I was alone in my utter disgust
Until the old me started to bleed and we became us.
Lust and mistrust in their social halitosis
Combust to form stardust, burning nuclear gusts.
Who sets presidents up to farm oil?
It's the pigs whose tails curve out to pointed coil.
If you want to know more then mark yes at the end of your test.
In response to your call of distress, we're the best.

Meet me in the back room.
I'll tell you everything.
Just run away with me, just lay with me.

They say rebellion exists in despair,
In their ironic facial hair. The devil may or may not care.
I saw the look she gave to Mr. Cred.
She said: "Don't let that blow go to your head."
She took my hand instead.
There's nothing like the brain of a beautiful girl
When it grasps the fallacy of the world.
We're in the back room back to back,
Breathing hard, reading the file on the heart they sought to defile.

She won't follow you.