This is a song about "Sbetts"

Secret service insurgents observe me nervously

Doctor: no!!! nurse get in here! we have an emergency!

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/

Dun giving a shit, beating the crap outta males in a fighter pit.

Now money is a service, but it's worthless, there's no purpose, shit,