This is it

Nothing has ever been any clearer
The little voice inside my head says:
Finish me
I am defected
Resurrected
Then rejected

Born to catastrophe
That's how I know you're right
Makes no sense
Now I think there's something wrong with me
There's something wrong with you

Photograph for the inoculated
It's a scab. Infected, incubated
Hide the cure, no one is worthy of it
Make this pure

I won't lie
But if I tell you the truth you will run
I won't try
But honestly this is so much fun

Born
And then live
Now you die
Repeat it, repeat it
But you kick
And you scream
And you cry
Why me? Why me?

Yes, you're the one that we want
No denying

Photograph for the inoculated
It's a scab. Infected, incubated
Hide the cure, no one is worthy of it
Make them pure

I won't lie
But if I tell you the truth you will run
I won't try
But baby I'm having fun
Please let me explain everything

Violence to unblock the sun
Violence is the only cure
Maggots will be the monetary
Kill me to make something scary

It is a crime
It's a drug
Make the choice
Make your choice