PRISMS

Force fed the serum that will break you Would not confide in who could shake her Been fed the tarmac that will stunt you Would not confide in who could fake him right out Six to one Countless prisms You talk in bitter tones Hold the line The script has been beaten dead Contradict your own claims The script has been beaten dead Contradict your own claims Was told the ointment was effective Could never face what has been levied back on you Countless prisms You talk in bitter tones Hold the line The script has been beaten dead Contradict your own claims The script has been beaten dead Boast about your own fame