Always afraid to speak, self-locked in involution
So  puzzled of your own irresolution
Screaming  in revolt, you only grumble
You run so bold in fight but you stumble
Disciplined! Impotent! Implement!
You  wait aside in rumble!

That’s  why
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
RIGHT  THROUGH YOU!

Big and grandiloquent, the words said in the mirror
A smoking barrel of a gun with no trigger
You stand in glory, again you’re dusted
Kneeled  in the corner of your life, you’re rusting!
Patternized! Methodized! Equalized!
Made so well adjusted!

That’s why
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
RIGHT THROUGH!
YOU!!!

So transparent in your plastic glory
A mouth of a sycophant with a virulent spit
A cancer eating through the roots of tolerance
A pattern rusted, repeated through the week

[Solo]

You’re…
Paralyzed! Methodized! Equalized!
In the pattern rusted!
That’s why… [x3]
THAT’S WHY!
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
RIGHT THROUGH YOU!

A patternized sickness that cuts
(IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU)
A cancerous weakness that cuts
(IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU)

The Pattern
(Cuts)
(Right)
(Through)
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!
(Cuts)
(Right)
(Through)
IT CUTS RIGHT THROUGH YOU!