1-800-HOTLINE
Suicide mission
We’re fucked if we listen
But we have to go
Then again
There again
Against the odds
Like Vietnam
Two-point-oh
At a loss
Desperate
Broken
Wired up
We can feel our
Neurons tear
And fibers snap
Like they’re cables
Of a bridge
Or a telephone line
Crossed lines
Like a hotline
To why
We listen
And keep wits
In grit to comply
Our mission
Our suicide mission
We’re fucked if we listen
But we have to go
Consume Reality! 