Tell me: How do I make time - conjure it?
Condescend with every breath.
Show me how to breathe.
Title is obviously sign of ability.
It couldn't be you took
the tongue sled to the top.

Fuck you, Asshole.
Tongue punch a dirtstar.
Where merit fails,
raw knees prevail.

Thinly veiled contempt,
barely masked, (I) seethe in place.
Every time (I) hear the words “Corporate Culture”,
(I) imagine you like a virus in a dish,
trapped in with your shit,
oblivious to your stench choking you
on the noose.

Face in thighs, ready to
argue your position.
Ride with pride;
You're the Star (of) Tonsil Polo -
Bologna Pony Rodeo

Maybe I'm bitter and cold but
I can't help but drive it home.
I may lose but you won't win.
Pyrrhic has victory built right in.

Let's pretend your shit doesn't stink.
It doesn't stink.
You're full of shit.

Lyrics by Jeremy Borne
© 2016 Opioid Music