When everyone hears
Then no one can help him
Not that he can Not that he wants to
Maybe he'll even list his own shit
Which is a big problem for them
From their point of view, mine's a minor dilemma
Nothing to do but feel sorry for him.

Soothe it, that's fine,
We've got it, we've got it, we've got it
We've soothed our consciences
We were full of our own rotten sins
And it washed away
If it was there, it's gone now.

Now there's nothing to cry about
I'm finally soothed
They gave me advice that was pointless for a while
Of course I know it's no use
Your word and mine don't matter any more.

Maybe I'll reach a level with my new knowledge
After which inspiration will take over
Or maybe they'll be just fucked-up words
Empty, dirty and meaningless
No reason to stay but no reason to go
So you can get home, because where
It's fucked up like...