I've slipped the noose, the shackles are off. My maturity fixation outshines. It's go for broke and fuck it all, with head held higher (than thou) I am the man that used to care. Who was I then? So quizzical with foresight. Now I've favored to savor the flavor of nine - to - five intuition. Out with the old, in with the new regime. I sold my soul to the rebotised dream. I'm just an empty shell with integrity scooped out. = A painted smile, a glass - eye high on two that can't cry. Touch me, I'm cold to the merits of (real) love. I stepped back from the edge when other slipped off. And all because society told me to.
https://primoaccordo.net/napalm-death/throwaway.htm