Future written
Future written past intent
Counting clocks cowering entrenched
Hard and fast yeah penance is supposed to hurt
Twisted lines barbed wire words

Right in spite
Right in front of my face

Blinking eyes
Blinking eyes blurred buried urge
Psychic dry heaves minds refuse to work
Handing out victims punishing the cost
God like grip writing off the loss

Right in spite
Right in front of my face

Not a chance

Not a chance I'm a coin you flip
Oo babe you're losing it
Gasoline in the bath a smoldering bed
Still you won't believe a single word I've said

Right in spite
Right in front of my face
Right in spite
Right in front of your face