This is a song about "Bikaku"

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

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

You spend days in your room to look perfect on the surface,

Personally purchase the hearse, attend the service

Expressing myself on verses

Dial up words but they're not in service