It's not that I'm filled with doubt

But there's stuff that weirds me out

Just a bit still

People ask me all the time

"Do you really think it's right?"

But I can't say no

Let's go to the echo room

Don't say what I can't consume

I won't feed this thing to bloom

Talking, talking what's the use?

I'm just so hard to amuse

You're wasting your breath

As I am wasting mine

But your neglect is so refined