It's not too late to change your life, Tuck in your shirt and drop the knife. I turned 25 yesterday, Gifted a weight across my chest. I haven't grown in any way, But look at all that I have left. I want to become a machine, Present my feelings on a screen, Operate so efficiently-- I'm sick of always breaking down. Tied up in flesh, I'm never free-- The muscles that it takes to frown Or make a sound. Don't make a sound now. Don't make a sound. Don't make a sound.