Seems so much is wasted away by the loud obnoxiousness of Mr. Chitter and Miss Chatter.
If you scream the loudest you are sure to be heard, but where's the care in your voice?
What's that? Oh, we never have a choice.
Satisfaction seems so fragile. Incapable. Honestly seems too elaborate. Incredible. Discreditable.
Where's the humor in this place? The sincerity in your doctored heart?
Seems you're always out to get the next person on your chart.
Your ideas are merely the ideas of whomever you prey.
The vultures must be proud.
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