This is a song about "Suicied"

Dial up words but they're not in service

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

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,

I'm the kind of kid whose main purpose is to shake earth's surface

Penetratin' the game on its cervix is my service