Deep in you, hangs your world
Fears, worries, pains are yours, as black secrets torment you
The life in me sees the world in you, you haul chains in lost minds
we speak the language, but you hear not cause your world is in you
Grandiose arid cursed witless lands, of those who think they are gods
These lines read like my rights
If you're my antipathy, towards my society
I use my rights to avoid your moral policing
Morals are a habit, a probable cause