| Our knowledge is bending our brainwaves congealing
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| Force feed the piety that humans are bleeding
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| Silk purse from a sows ear is what I’m knitting
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| Nourishing off the fat of our rendering
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| Hail to our underlings
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| Our destinies embraced
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| Surrender unto abysmal weight
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| Hail to our underlings
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| Toiling away
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| Collapsing into a servile state
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| Mouth of komodo shall harbour our healing
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| Poisons the serum as our sores are revealing
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| Hang nerves out to dry to dampen the feeling
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| Rendering for self-symbiotic feeding
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| Hail to our underlings
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| Who knows not to fight
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| Peel back the scabs to blind them all with light
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| The filth of our underlings
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| Shall never nourish me completely |