My childhood is boxes
Fifteen years of cardboard
“Sold” signs to a six year old
Dischord, dischord, dischord
My adolescence a text file
Injustice grave and done
Cause all it will say soon is
Move on, move on, move on
Study the cell, study it well
Your firewall was breeched
Man oh well, fucking hell
Repeat, repeat, repeat
This must be the final stanza
Oh but why must it be the last?
Stare into the walls as they
Collapse, collapse, collapse
