Operator under pressure from the maker
To take apart the tempered moments of decision
Now operator is calm but not very collected
And impromptu disproving feeds operator's doubts

This is where, this is where I can see
I can see everything, everything

It's a hand-held self doubt
Aborting its course for a new route
It's analysis paralysis
Arresting all perception of progress

When you lack lust trust or instinct
And message you send is not succint
You stand frozen still not knowing
That you killed yourself, oh hell you're gone
You killed yourself, oh hell you're gone