Seems it's become man's cross d**h lasting duty To dispose completely of the bright behind beauty And this word is somehow then k**ed, And put back as it's fake Like it was only kept outside apes in the first place Overworked words like 'beauty' are an undeserved sort of safety scissors for their purpose Were it only meant to be adapted to Hollywood dull, Leaving a red white & blind eye lain null Where beauty once saw only pa**age through the human skull With red white and The skull Six million ways to to to The skull Chose one With red white and The skull Six million ways to to to Chose one Will you soon become one of the many most-empty sons Hung to k** none and done Or will you beget a twice life yet Since effects are always wearing off The no-concern eclipse they so anticipate, As its perfect fight dream dissipates Across work weeks crashing And empty's open asking There is a sick soft god Human perfection, In someone's hard-to-find birdhead collection (x3)