I am the scientist, slurring and slow,
And I already know how it ends.
Your indications are tactless
Your rules always knew how to bend.
How many stitches does it take
Before the skin heals as a jacket,
Because it isn't a redefinition
If the recognition doesn't seem fit.
This is my favorite part,
When the cars don't stop at night
When the drunks are alright pretending.
I may be stupid, but consciously so,
And I already know how it ends.
The implications are merciless,
Even your light knows how to bend.
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