Of late, it's harder just to go outside
To leave this dead space with hatred, so alive
Writhing with sickness, thrown into banality, I decay
Killed by the weakness, but forced to return, turn it off
Out there so quickly grows malignant tribes
Post human extinction excels unrecognized
Feeling surrounded, so bored with mortality, I decay
All of this hatred is ****ing real, turn it on...yeah