there is gold on the light
they came to ****,
the hit men of this apple
oh so american

but what they wish
to rip away with bullets
the intellect
I'm falling

down into the bottom--
withering decomposition
hello it's me--
the corpse of society

It's me, the past
white paint--
no other color
supreme, supreme

hear my roar--
it's my  last breath
my heart fails
humanity is dead