| Probability | Text |
|---|
| 88% | I peel the skin off my face like exposed to sydney's delay. |
| 88% | My travels can destroy you, but unfortunately I have no idea where I've been. |
| 88% | In the prison of my mind, a bunch of devices, spoons and speakable horrors to my friends. |
| 88% | Bloodstains on my hands did not be washed away. |
| 88% | I'm not losing it at last, you have to find myself inside or out of the furnace. |
| 88% | I'm on the ground, all running to war in the first direction. |
| 99% | There's no reason I have to take a few risks of your poisonous clothes and quartz from your veins. |
| 99% | There's nothing left here to work for you, you can't handle that situation. |
| 99% | I'm posing you inside or out. |
| 99% | And your mere madness matters, and all that is left is a boring fucking mess. |
