One for nothing and two for no one three hours of sleep on four (ha ha ha ha) five minutes to get ready, six if I run seven minutes in heaven for eight hours in hell. I don't want to be a seed for you to plant now. At the mercy of those who hold the plow. Who keeps swinging on the utters of the cash cow. Your bean stalks decaying in the clouds now. And I'll plant these veins for you in shades of red white and blue and killing is all I ever know and gazing into your eyes, I'll buy all your sweet little lies and kill until I can kill like you.