This is a song about "Imortal"

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service

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

Lines naturally come out of my mind,and end up looking like bad cursive.

At a funeral service lurking and snatching purses

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

I inclined the bastard / to fight or i will use my knifes 'n' daggers