[Redacted]

Toss this ball in your conscience
Throw it up, catch it on the way down
Who are we to suppress our dreams?
I set them free, I make them be
I'll make you bleed
Whether through death or a fine-toothed comb
Brush it back, brush it through the thoughts you've chosen
Trillions of people chucked their brains in a casket
Call it a tragedy

Is there anybody home inside?
Is there anybody home inside this head of mine?

Christ, where do we even begin?