I show, you tell
I'm water in your well
A ghost, a troll beneath your bridge
You grow, and I sell
To you my very self
And most of what I know is not sacred
I am not a host
To this parasite who knows
All my fears and wants and hopes
I'm bear, you're bull
Forever in your pull
A byte, a food that you consume
I'm spare, and you're full
I'm a student in your school
And I kick against the walls inside your womb
I am not a host
To this parasite who knows
All my fears and wants and hopes
Trying to combine the primal wisdom with the psychoanalytical
Brevity is critical
I'm a lower-middle-class white trash individual; umbilical
To the fictional and the physical
It's minimal trivialism all of this visible schism that I recall
This intricate imbecilism falls for the simplest cynical reinstall
The suspicion of commission is religion efficient once and for all
I said I am not a host
To this parasite who knows
All my fears and wants and hopes