My thoughts are spiraling like Lateralus was playing again
I aim to win, only I'm not sure if I'm shooting straight
I got an ego like you've never seen,
only I've been suppressing it so long I finally earned my sir-name.
I think that means I can now complain about how everything is aflame in this war game between our pen names.
Or is that pet names?
You've got a piece of me that I didn't know I had given up
and I'm scared to death of how simple it is to crush
my very existence in the palm of your hand.
I demand a trial by keyboard, so the warlords I've adored can finally see my lack of spinal cord and my criminal record.
Death dances disco around me tonight,
as everything burns around me tonight,
and I just don't want to be around me tonight,
so why do you?