This is a song about "Sleepover"

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

She never judges u for all the fucked up things that u done did,

Personally purchase the hearse, attend the service

Divided families and tore 'em up and saddened mothers,

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

I write for inspiration, to spark communication with others,