None of this has changed, when we all look the same
Addicted to the one that left you, we can't forget you
We colonized in war, predicting many more
Addicted to the hand that fed you, you can't remember
Your color I wonder
The more trouble that we get in,
The more fun if we don't get caught up in it
Prefabricate that skin!
Help me find out, if this is all predictable
Or is your troubled fate, relentless in it's ways,
Destroying all your days?
(These words coincide!!! Self-taught suicide!!!)