Why now has this year been so long
All we wanted was cash and excuses
To lie down in our bedrooms at home
So we sit back night and day
In hopes we think of ideas that are gold
And I won't stop myself until I know for sure
So much for convictions just give us what we want
Here's our foray into fiction for failing at our hobbies
Nothing compares to my capacity
For hatred of things that I just can't achieve
All intimidation that reigns over me
Won't be fraught with carelessness, habit, or greed