(Spoken) In the end no one is safe, Nothing is redeemed And yet I am blameless As I come face to face with the truth. A truth.
(Sung) Maybe this schism is just a symptom Of late capitalism A saviours dereism Of worlds that wouldn’t listen To their own collapse.
Even if this story Is overwrought and gory It’s not a fable, it’s not an allegory No cautionary tale, no momento mori For a vague perhaps.
Maybe you’ve been slaughtered Maybe you’ve been killed Either way means nothing I simply don’t exist Look at what’s been done here Judge it how you wish I am all alone here I am a solipsis This is what we come to What we have become I am not a person Known to anyone All the doors are tried and tested Know that this is not an exit.
Am I just a version of the end of days? Am I just an effect of a modern phase? Am I just the end point of the grand parade? Should we be afraid?
Maybe you’ve been slaughtered Maybe you’ve been killed (kissed) Either way means nothing I simply don’t exist Look at what’s been done here Judge it how you wish I am all alone here I am a solipsis This is what we’ve come to What we have become I am not a person known to anyone All the doors are tried and tested Know that this is not an exit. None of this exists for me This is all a fantasy There is no future here There is no history None of this is real It’s not reality None of this exists for me There is no consistency There’s only entropy And even though I’ve tried and tested (I) Know that this is not an exit Now. (Spoken)
I am 27 years old living in New York City at the end of the century. This is what being Patrick Bateman means to me.