This is a song about "Charleigh lacey"

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,

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

Sometimes my lyrics are hard to choose i'm like a women to shoes and purses,

Except for the lower class, now what's their purpose?

Dial up words but they're not in service