| Have a clue | |
| Walking right through | |
| Alice's mirror maze high | |
| Feeling cold ways to wake up | |
| Taking pills dedicated to heartache | |
| Defend insanities | |
| Know the reckless cures inside | |
| This bored destroyed and open door | |
| Never went and got inside | |
| Indication of a black sore | |
| What's to lose? | |
| There's nothing that's been done before | |
| The baseline of the medical show that indicates dyslexia | |
| Indignation when the bees died | |
| Through the back now digging to the outside | |
| The lice loose face | |
| The lucky ones break through | |
| The walls of the maze on the inside | |
| Indications on the outside | |
| Till the truth starts leeching from the insights | |
| All the black scars | |
| The VD sores | |
| The medical censure | |
| And when they lie lie cross cross | |
| Misdiagnosed examination | |
| And when they talk talk talk talk | |
| Eventual extermination | |
| And when they lie loss cross | |
| Experimental agitation | |
| And when they die talk talk talk | |
| Injected dopamine elation | |
| Vindication of the side effect from the death row grin with nothing to lose | |
| The victims sleep with sodomy cakes | |
| The rotten eyes pop like the roasted fly | |
| Indications of the untrue | |
| Till the truth starts leaking from a head wound | |
| Have the black cures | |
| Causing their cancers | |
| In a medical censor | |
| And when they lie cough cough | |
| The military sanitation | |
| But when they talk talk talk | |
| Is everybody celebration | |
| But when they know cross cross | |
| The implemental generation | |
| And when they die talk talk | |
| Unmedicated situation | |
| Shatter news flowing on through | |
| Veins of every size | |
| Everyday to wake up | |
| Tortoise shells disguising guises | |
| Disturbed reality | |
| Each bubble in which to hide | |
| All deserving frogs will boil like cattle for the slaughter with the best of style | |
| And it grows and close to close and the body wants disease | |
| Time to close the point of when you want to be close to nothing | |
| And when they lie lie cross cross | |
| Is everybody's celebration | |
| But when they know loss cross cross cross the incremental generation | |
| But when they lie cross cross cross | |
| Experimental agitation | |
| And when they die talk talk talk | |
| What's it gonna feel like? | |
| The stitches of wake up | |
| What's it gonna be like? | |
| The new education | |
| What's it gonna feel like? | |
| Vestiges that wake up | |
| What's it gonna be like? | |
| The new education | |
| Every thing blows goes away | |
| Everything grows to show decay | |
| Everything flows to grow insane | |
| Withering ghosts that fade away |
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