You knew what I was going to say. And when I didn’t, I did anyway, it seems.
And I’ll survive with self-respect intact. And you?
Every freedom needs a trust.
And this trust will kill again for you. And someone else wont believe their eyes.
While a thousand will believe it’s true. This trust will kill again for you.
Through tales of objectivity you shake my hands. All that objectivity could break them both.
Cause whatever I say, context aside, you’ve got what you need to make sure I say what they want to
read. It wont happen again, and I’ll survive with self-respect intact.
They’re telling me I should have known better. Well now I know.
All that objectivity. Nothing.
