I heard you say something quite unimportant.
Are you aware of the state we're in?
Hoping to cover the tracks that I've tossed.
Trying to hide the tension of your axe,
at least.
Unexistent freedom.
What does it tell you about MCOBs?
So
what's wrong here?
A total disaster?
Burn out your commands!
The subject consented to rot!
Now I ship myself to Kimmel,
showing my own expression in the midst of this disorientation.
Under the blitz of a psychic wreck,
my choice to be a detective.
I accept it! I prefer being a stench head!
Putting the power at your feet! Your authority!
I won't let my will down! Burn out your commands!
The tension in your axe, at least.
Unexistent freedom.
What does it tear you apart?
MCOBs. Existent freedom.