Every Time I Die - Imitation Is the Sincerest Form of Battery

Don't try to resist. You're coming with us. Provisions are made. Accomodations are met. Your words are encoded in the bleak genetics of the mob. Praise Apocrypha--omitted offense--to relieve us of guilt but not of our sin. We've sacrificed discourse at the feet of your clever turn of phrase. Now you owe it to us. We demand to be taken aback. To be shown the revival of hope for which your words are responsible.

Oh, it's the end of the line. I'm cornered by a precedent; the sneering public eye.

My job here is done.
My job here is done.
You're fucking welcome!

Retract the accolade, the candid acclaim. Inspiration is cutting its loss. Regurgitate headlines or a theory on modern art. You've been fooled again. The red herring's a joke.

I tried so hard to tell you that I've tapped the well dry. But there's no word.

Stay wistful and young. The affected are banking on oblivion -in the drone of embittered hope- and we're sold by the way they wrote it.

Oh, it's the end of the line. I'm cornered by a precedent; the sneering public eye.

My job here is done.
My job here is done.

And it is better to destroy, than to create what is meaningless, so the picture will not be finished.