Story Behind the Song
More angry industroviolence. This boy needs therapy! Angry yet again at my own inability to lash back at those who've wronged me.
Lyrics
Turn it on, turn it off. Implants, wetware. Deck jocks, gearbox. No one here left to care. Burnout, despot government. Take it all, take it all lying on the pavement. Flip the switch, drop another level in your sympathy. The dial on your heart is painselectiv. Love you, hate you. More than life, bonesaw. Vein call, bloodclot, bit of brain, on the wall. Caress the trigger, optics align so perfectly. The mirror on the wall, opaque, reflective. The mirrors on your eyes are painselectiv. Reasons fading like the chemicals we call "love." Long stay, no way. Bloodcut stitch shut. Bite of steel, steering wheel. Matte black skullcrack. Wires showing, inhumanity growing. Feeling in need of surgery corrective. The insicions on your mind are painselectiv.
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