Hah hah hah
Isn’t it funny

Funny how everything kind of *****
And we’re stuck in the same repetitive loop

Every day and every day and every day
And we’re constantly just working towards another repetition,
Another drain, more work,
And it never stops, does it?
No, it never stops

Because even in the intermissions
Your mind never stops
It never stops
You’ll never stop thinking thinking thinking
About everything, everything
All at once
All the time

And nothing nothing nothing
Because you’re truly are insignificant, aren’t you?
Isn’t this all insignificant in the end?
Yes, you lead a truly insignificant life.
Over 35,000 people are born every day,
About 100 billion people have died since the world began

Too much, much too much, and yet not quite enough
Not quite enough, no
It’s never enough
Never enough

You’re not enough
You’re nothing, remember?
Remember remember remember remember remember remember?

Remember, this is funny,
Because its all just a big ******* joke
Yeah, you’re a joke!
You’re so so funny, and you’re so so laughing right now.
No difference between laughing with or at, right?
Laughing and crying, am I right? Theres no difference

No difference
No difference
No difference

Remember, yeah?
Remember you can make that number about 100 billion and 1.

I’ve left the oven on
for years.
Somewhere between metaphor and meaning,
something’s always been burning.

But no one’s eaten in a while.

They called it voice.
I called it
a slow confession wrapped in rhyme.
A sugarcoated breakdown.
Something easy to swallow
if you didn’t read too carefully.

They wanted brevity.
I brought blood.
They wanted truth.
I brought formatting errors
and a whisper shaped like static.

Do you remember the one
with the anti-light?
No?

Of course not.
You don’t remember the one who screamed last.
You remember the one who rhymed "heart" with "start"
and got 200 likes for it.

Now my name is on the box
but it’s spelled wrong
and the font is smiling too hard.

The cookies still crumble
but no one eats the edges.
That’s where the poison is.
That’s where I lived.

So I’ve folded the apron.
Swallowed the last word
before it could become a quote.

Let the gods of good taste keep their ovens.
Let the algorithm rot.

I’ve got shoeboxes full of unsent stanzas
and no more hunger
for applause shaped like echo.

Happy families, smiling,
enjoying time together,
atmosphere filled with their laughter.

And then -

in a moment of madness,
all silenced.

Bullets took over,
dead bodies lying all around.

Terror strikes the land
we call "Paradise on Earth."

Behind the darkest clouds
The sun can still shine
You just have to embrace the storm
Dance in the rain
And scream with the thunder
Until it passes
And then you can lie in the sun