This is itnnNothing has ever been any clearernThe little voice inside my head says:nFinish menI am defectednRessurectednThen rejectednnBorn to catastrophenThat's how I know you're rightnMakes no sensenNow I think there's something wrong with menThere's something wrong with younnPhotograph for the inoculated.nIt's a scab. Infected, incubated.nHide the cure, no one is worthy of it.nMake this pure.nnI won't lienBut if I tell you the truth you will runnI won't trynBut honestly this is so much funnnBornnAnd then livenNow you dienRepeat it, repeat itnnBut you kick.nAnd you scream.nAnd you cry.nWhy me? Why me?nnYes, you're the one that we wantnNo denyingnnPhotograph for the inoculated.nIt's a scab. Infected, incubated.nHide the cure, no one is worthy of it.nMake them pure.nnI won't lienBut if I tell you the truth you will runnI won't trynBut baby I'm having funnPlease let me explain everything.nnViolence to unblock the sun.nViolence is the only cure.nMaggots will be the monetary.nKill me to make something scarynnIt is a crimenIt's a drugnMake the choicenMake your choicen