Don't You Have Better Things To Do?
Let us partake in our swan-song
This hurts us more than you think
I've given up earlier than it seems
With this, I abstain from living

The ringing won't stop
The ringing won't stop
I've traded self-worth for respect
What do I deserve in return?

It, it, it, it stares at me
It, it, it, it stares at me
It, it, it, it stares at me

Making Yourself Redundant
We reanimate the dead and appropriate them for our benefit
What was once built is demolished and repurposed
I am complacent
I am complacent

I sold my heart as a readymade and then repackaged it as a facsimile of ‘90s revisionism—to sustain my self-indulgent "struggle"
I sold my heart as a readymade and then repackaged it as a facsimile of ‘90s revisionism—to sustain my self-indulgent "struggle"