This is a song about "Bevinn"

And then bitch-slap her on purpose,

Dial up words but they're not in service

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

Bastard, hap hazardous track master, put a beat on and words become lavishly crass daggers/

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

I'll confess i'm just rushin it, always feels like an emergency