Open positions and sing songs of love Then repent against yourself and swallow your own foot It stinks like fermentation and I know it's your brain because it's just like the past which I cannot forget It's just like... no Shallow old rotting stiffs that live in some graves Perpetuating throw backs from said such old graves It's just like... no I hold aspiration and it's in a key so I count the tickets Oh I count the tickets It's just like... fire