LYRIC

Don't try to resist, you're coming with us.
Provisions are made, accommodations are met.
Your words are recoded in the bleak genetics of the mob.
Praise apocrypha-omitted offense,
To relieve us of guilt but not of our sin
We've sacrificed discourse at the feet of your clever turn-of-phrase.
Now you owe it to us, we demand to be taken aback,
To be showed the revival of hope, for which your words are responsible.

Oh, it's the end of the line,
I'm cornered by a precedent

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