I think I wanna cut my own throat
**** hard and sleep tight
Vulgarity and purity together it makes a one man
The man called me
You all are my projections
See how uncanny it is when the God, whoever,whatever the creator steal that claim from me, the man who own the projections
In the broad day light
Am not angry with him if he doing the job right but no
He just playing with lights
Making it his own club house
Having selfish apathetic pleasure
Destroy my creation my projection
Destroying the man
The man