the smell of her perfume struggles to cover everything inside this ringing room though once subdued, the silence seems to sing whoa-oh, i told you so whoa-oh, i told you so my name is evidence, my role is undeniable, unless i've become inadmissible in crimes of consequence, i'm only as reliable as the defendant's defense is defendable i am the k**; though i'm unwilling to be still and accept this evil as my own personal - and sentient - will. nothing makes sense anymore, when murder's just a mistake that you have made nothing makes sense anymore, so a sick and guilty man will be born again with conscience saved judicial precedent will see to that, i'll see to that, he'll see to that,
it's impossible given the incident, given his catatonic state to imagine it playing out any other way? he was admitted on that day, the doctor read his case, there were implausibilities he couldn't place and it was obvious that there was something more to this patient. something had been missed. "it's this hole i can see in each of his eyes... where all of the events that happen in this real world kind of just fall through" it's loneliness, it's loneliness nothing makes sense anymore, when murder's just a mistake that you have made nothing makes sense anymore, so sick and guilty men will be born again with consciences