motherfucker, let's just sit this one out. give it time to lose some meaning. motherfucker, let's just stick this one out. your strongest bonds are built on nothing. their smiles predict that we all drown; i hope you'll stay to write this one down. we're all whispering "i know that face" and, while it's not my place to question, does it make you sick that i've seen right through these reasons? you've managed to question all ways motives and intentions with senseless measurements of good bad and indifferent. in difference. does it make you sick that i see right through this weakness? well, it makes me sick, so start this off with no more than this silence, with no looking back, no regrets, no end in sight. to start this off, you want me to say i understand, so i'm wondering, in hindsight, what fucking revolution are we talking about?