Of late it's harder just to go outside,
to leave this deadspace with hatred so alive.
Writhing with sickness, thrown into banality,
Killed by the weakness, but forced to return.
Turn it off.
I watch the stars as they fall from the sky.
I held a fallen star and it wept for me,
I feel the fallen stars encircle me now,
as they cry.
Out there so quickly grows malignant tribes.
Posthuman extinction excels unrecognized.
Feeling surrounded, so bored with mortality,
All of this hatred is fucking real.
Turn it on.
It won't be all right despite what they say.
Just watch the stars tonight as they disappear,
And I disintegrate
?cause this hate is fucking real.
And I hope to shade the world as stars go out
and I disintegrate.