Prepare to nose dive. This jet’s a wreck.
You want to get off, but we’re falling so fast.
These times are tough… economic crash.
Now we’re all fucked and headed for disaster.
Make your mind up faster… nothing more hereafter.
Obtuse collider… your wings are on fire.
It’s just a game, and they don’t want you to know that you’re playing in it
because they’re sucking you dry.
You pray for rain and try so very hard not to think about it,
content to be a victim of their lies.
I don’t know if there is a pilot anymore.
I think he left us here to die.
The answer is locked behind that cockpit door.
But we haven’t got much time left.
It won’t hurt much when you hit the ground.
You’re out of touch with how this all went down.
The pilot is laughing. He’s a sick man.
He set us up to take the fall; that bastard
engineered this disaster… nothing more hereafter.
Obtuse collider… connects with dirt
Obtuse collider… your broken bones are on fire.
Obtuse collider you had it coming
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