I don't want this to sound like a well-oiled machine
We're like tendon and skin with muscle flexing underneath
And what will I make spin for 56 tape?
A disc with magnetized iron a child could erase
And why do my eyes roll when a love song is wrote
When I shake my ones loose, outcomes rarely are null
Well, I hope you accept this song of dismay
Where I show you in words what I cannot display