You are
Not the numbers
You're su-
percomposite

And when the numbers aren't mine,
I never blame it on you.

We will run the numbers
Hands locked in a promise
We're supercomposite
I never blame it on you

So please
When you look at me
Oh, nevermind
Well, you can see

So please
When I let you down
We ran the numbers
And we didn't have it

But we've escaped the surface
Don't ask, it was worth it
We changed our perspective
And now my neck is a little sore

But I've got my jugular
Filled with molten iron
I'm forging a weapon
Sharp enough to slit their throats

So please
When we run the numbers
They don't have throats
It's a separation

So please
Panpsychist lover
It's even stevens
Even for non-vegans