Well I can count a million ways,
To entertain and control,
In every single way it's memory is ignored
In a darkened passageway, another story unfolds,
It buries the light of day in this it's cryptic code
This story's repeating words with no meanings cover a cultured roar
And in cycles of reading courses and breathing
You can convert your form
Well I can count a thousand ways to memorize and perform
In every single way it's weathered and conformed
In a compromising state is where the circus is born
Amongst a proud debate, the revolution's core