Abduction of morals
The Russel House squirrels aren't even so greedy.
You need me to concede your conceit,
I don't think so.
Admit defeat; you are bleak, you are dumb, you speak words with no meaning
No purpose, direction
I'd rather see scheming than indecisive affection
Accept my correction you lexicon lover,
Don't burn worlds with lies and expect me to comply with your fine-lined blueprint of a new sky to hide in.