This is a song about "Angre"

Service the discursive lurkers in the furthest mergers of a scary circus,

But now its whatever, knowing your the batter of another man that matters,

Is low and is only get worsed you might as well be under a curses

As they juggle knives for a deadly purpose, entertaining service, recursive

My punch lines make you bleed internally,

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously