Black Light Burns

I know, that I’ll grow into your foe……
Your show has closed
Your soul spark, exposed…
I know, that you’ll grow into your hole……
‘Cos you stole, your young……
Helpless now as they come to blows……with your spurious tone…
You cannot reason, with the one who wears the crown,
So they leave us with no choice but to shut this engine down,
And although it makes you sad, to murder our machine,
It’s high time we left the hive; these worker bees must kill the Queen……