You planted all the vices in my psyche's synapses,
maybe it was a plan, maybe it just happened, perhaps?
Made a chart of mental topography, a psychotic map
to traverse my mind as it snaps like a thunderclap.

Is it just the world's irreconcilable consciousness of fate
the deciphered encryption of our collection of hate.
'Tis said for all good, and true for bad also, we must wait
for our time in eternity to step thru insanity's gate.

You planted all the vices in my psyche's synapses,
maybe it was a plan, maybe it just happened, perhaps?
Made a chart of mental topography, a psychotic map
to traverse my mind as it snaps like a thunderclap.