Inconspicuous.
So fucking ridiculous.

And the rhymes are gone. And the days are gone.
And we only see at night.

I feel what you feel.
Your complicated feeling is my easy routine.

Hard to judge.
Condemnation sounds simpler.

We don't make sense. But oh man, we're so logical.
And you could be here too.
But you don't want to.

You're content with your stupid, fucking ridiculous position.

And together, we all applaud.