Soon I'll travel through your face. See it come, see it go. but you’re all alone. To some alone will be like home . You're gonna leave it. Is it here? Is it far from it? Isn't this what you were aiming for? Not about to kill the bell but are you still in favor of this? When wysiwyg rude the wake of TV guidance and I’ve got a few cents for the well. Hell, if you're still in favor of this wounded growing egg who's barely got its own way tracing lines in your skull and it grows almost on its own. Is it here? Nothing’s there! So leave! ‘Cause tide laced with lye you play the game. If you maintain what choice have I? Soon I'll crawl through your face. Soon I'll travel through your face.. See it come, see it go but you’re all alone. To some alone will be like home. You're gonna leave it. It isn’t here. This is not my place; In a cue and everyone’s blue-faced and I’m all about communicating in all forms, “What did you do today?” So, I message you and then you message me but you’re standing 10 feet away from me. “Fuck this shit,” you say, “Let’s go outside. You took the words right off of my fingers. This devolution: Media-ocoraty. Like they say, “You can cut the flowers but you’ll never stop the spring” Uprising! Arise! Our eyes! Arise! Happy blue screen in your cocoon. Strange butterfly what becomes of you?