Lyrics

1920s Jazz bar I guess....

So reclusive nobodies getting to me
Offensive nobody pay's attention to me
Listen to me, underground legend
Why you still got to use your hand for?
Selling singles, so I hate my parents and what they stand for
All my fans are whores
Little self centered, bewildered, belittled
Assassins my faces are faceless
Becoming a locksmith to break into places
Emcees are burned to a crisp
If thee tangles turned to a crisp
Delve so deep I discovered the sea angels in The Abyss
I'm a veteran, better than the malevolence of your heaven sent rhetoric
As dark as Morgoth
Don't burn yourself the innards of the sun is not more hot

Your life's FUBAR

Wait, what happened to the beat? Ohh I forgot to loop it....