When you flick the lever does it strain you? Does it stave you?
So agonizingly close to the truth?
Cynical is the nature.
Mame to kill,
fool not fill,
mind over will.
To quarter intrinsically,
Stutter intellectually,
Engrosse enternally.
Oh untimely vapire!
Vibrent like the moon
how you steal from the heavens,
iluminating the path of shadows!
You! Sending mankind to the gallows!
Oh promises you gave were shallow!
Every like
every follow,
will this only end in sorrow?