You and I we're cut from a different soap than the rest we got wreck in our fluid and it makes grenades get stuck in the talk we clean our own abrasions our own decisions while the clan outside that iron curtain still rolls in the mud maybe it's the ethic the lack of a pattern the thrill of the kill from the hunt that we build then again, it's all perspective so put your fucking guilt away walk down that corridor with your limit in hand and call out for the riot what did you do before your first night of bastard life? that's right you slept your full eight and pledged alliance to the most miserable craft i don't want to go back to those grounds we washed our hands, so let them fend for themselves we all gasp like an ultimate heist we won't sleep until we know until you know until I know...