@@justinmitchell2577 I read this comment not knowing what it was replying too on my notifications and I was like “what does that mean” honestly kinda forgot I commented this
LYRICS (OKULTRA is in the replies): They could prescribe you any illness you'd like If you define the terms of your ailments You could sing a pretty malady like a black canary But a crow don't know the smell of carbon monoxide How many years have you been on that couch They could've quilt'd you in the throws by now You draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin But the tide rolls in, so who knows? Oh well And a little identity never hurt nobody But lately you've been focusing too much on yourself So how many milligrams of you are still left in there Cause back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists No, we just drank ourselves to death, and god damn it, we liked it Who makes the call? What's a symptom, what's a flaw Can it be both? Well I suppose that's an answer Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity Cause God knows it's not like it's cancer And good news to the purists: they've discovered a cure For the symptoms of being alive It's a painless procedure with a low rate of failure But very few patients survive And a little conformity never hurt nobody But lately I've been worried that you're losing yourself So how many milligrams of you are still left in there Cause back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists No, we just bled out in our bath, and god damn it, we liked it Doctor, what's my prognosis if the studies show that Disease is in the eye of the beholder Tell me "so it goes" We depress to impress, I guess In layer after layer to get off our chests It's cold out now, we can take it off later Better safe than sorry, and we both know the danger So doctor, could you run another test Got a feeling that this time I might just pass it Well, if you raise the average We'll all sing when the bell curve rings In lyrics symptomatic of the way we think If our harmonies don't sync, we can change our voices A chorus on condition of our diagnosis Back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists What can I say, except don't heed no evil wills of moral nihilists I said, "Back in the days of lobotomies and shock therapy and mad scientists” Oh don't you make me waste my breath. God damn it
Well he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson Syndrome on the E.R. floor Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic The way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges Roman candles at both ends in his synapses And the method with which he recycled his humors Trojan Horse'd his Blood-Brain Barrier and raised the LD-50, yes, yes And through flight-or-fight revelation shame the Black Box Warrior He skipped this town and headed straight down history Shields himself from reason in a Kevlar baby-blue Tuxedo Quilted from the finest fibers, flesh, and fiberglass, and flowers His ego a mosquito, evil incarnate good incognito Pops placebos for libido, screaming, "Bless the torpedoes" For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down Well, he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose Around his Lotus jugular when they came Well, they found him with a map to every victim of his love And a tattoo of a blue jay on his face And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry A hymn out in Hungarian Harmonic But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma sang, "For auld lang syne" "Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics" His rib cage was a hornet's nest, palpitations set the beat His vagus nerve a turk's head knot, an axel hitch, a carrick bend He wondered if Christ Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee Auf wiedersehn, au revoir, he gripped his wits right by their ends For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down Hello, welcome, why don't you take a seat? Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to Now what's bothering you? Well, why don't we start at the beginning Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence? Did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your Blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head? And how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckle thumbs Did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands? Your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your STR'd strands? Tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under Bacchus' bloody nose Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you, your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole Did you die before your day? Thursday traction, Tuesday titration My hope is to assess through my objective report of Your subjective conjecture Whether this proprietary bled of expertise and seasoning works as well as this Transorbital ice pick Holistic ballistics, you got a better idea? It's about the best we could come up with, what, you think ideas spread because they're good? No, they spread because people like them So now here we are once again, holding As it were, a mirror up to your mirror I guess it's just something people do A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function Coital machinations of the dead Well, you mainline your animus, karate chop your abacus And learn to be an animal instead But I never did think you better than this, your modus operandi causes Nazi/Skoptzyism and suicide Why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem Not the things you do but something sick inside Lithium and Dialectics, boy you really is defective CBT don't seem effective for that Cluster B, accept it Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects You've lost your mind and almost lost your life before So you'll be fine For what? For what? For what it's worth If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, and why would you want to look back? I mean, it's no good looking back, so try to look forward now For what? For what? For what it's worth If they were going to get you boy, they would have by now For what? For what? For what it's worth There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down...
4:24 breached containment
it would be funny when the singing started he just got reaaal close
@@LizordSword terrifying*
@@OfficialPisser potato potato
Euclid or Keter?
@@darkmatter4210 Appolyon
The window without will looks like something you'd see out of the Caretaker
The photos look like fnaf 3 rare loading screens you’d get
I'm unsure how I got here while sober but I think it's ok.
OH GOD HE ESCAPED
keter class containment breach, we need ALL mobile task forces on site-19 immediately. this is not a drill
DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, ALLOW HIM NEAR THE TAPEWORMS
@@commanderriptide7723 marsha hand me the shovel im going in!
Bro where did he go!!
As Moth said, he escaped containment
home. theres nothing left
He’s right behind you, run!
@@justinmitchell2577 I read this comment not knowing what it was replying too on my notifications and I was like “what does that mean” honestly kinda forgot I commented this
To the red moon
i really appreciate when people give me blackboxwarriors tbh
LYRICS (OKULTRA is in the replies):
They could prescribe you any illness you'd like
If you define the terms of your ailments
You could sing a pretty malady like a black canary
But a crow don't know the smell of carbon monoxide
How many years have you been on that couch
They could've quilt'd you in the throws by now
You draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin
But the tide rolls in, so who knows? Oh well
And a little identity never hurt nobody
But lately you've been focusing too much on yourself
So how many milligrams of you are still left in there
Cause back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists
No, we just drank ourselves to death, and god damn it, we liked it
Who makes the call? What's a symptom, what's a flaw
Can it be both? Well I suppose that's an answer
Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity
Cause God knows it's not like it's cancer
And good news to the purists: they've discovered a cure
For the symptoms of being alive
It's a painless procedure with a low rate of failure
But very few patients survive
And a little conformity never hurt nobody
But lately I've been worried that you're losing yourself
So how many milligrams of you are still left in there
Cause back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists
No, we just bled out in our bath, and god damn it, we liked it
Doctor, what's my prognosis if the studies show that
Disease is in the eye of the beholder
Tell me "so it goes"
We depress to impress, I guess
In layer after layer to get off our chests
It's cold out now, we can take it off later
Better safe than sorry, and we both know the danger
So doctor, could you run another test
Got a feeling that this time I might just pass it
Well, if you raise the average
We'll all sing when the bell curve rings
In lyrics symptomatic of the way we think
If our harmonies don't sync, we can change our voices
A chorus on condition of our diagnosis
Back in my day we didn't need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists
What can I say, except don't heed no evil wills of moral nihilists
I said, "Back in the days of lobotomies and shock therapy and mad scientists”
Oh don't you make me waste my breath. God damn it
Well he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson Syndrome on the E.R. floor
Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic
The way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges
Roman candles at both ends in his synapses
And the method with which he recycled his humors
Trojan Horse'd his Blood-Brain Barrier and raised the LD-50, yes, yes
And through flight-or-fight revelation shame the Black Box Warrior
He skipped this town and headed straight down history
Shields himself from reason in a Kevlar baby-blue Tuxedo
Quilted from the finest fibers, flesh, and fiberglass, and flowers
His ego a mosquito, evil incarnate good incognito
Pops placebos for libido, screaming, "Bless the torpedoes"
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down
Well, he was wearing stolen rubber shoes and wrapped a poison ivy noose
Around his Lotus jugular when they came
Well, they found him with a map to every victim of his love
And a tattoo of a blue jay on his face
And they waited for his vital signs to lie and let a flatline cry
A hymn out in Hungarian Harmonic
But he cocked his noggin, through his stoma sang, "For auld lang syne"
"Happy birthday to the succulents, I'll die your hydroponics"
His rib cage was a hornet's nest, palpitations set the beat
His vagus nerve a turk's head knot, an axel hitch, a carrick bend
He wondered if Christ Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee
Auf wiedersehn, au revoir, he gripped his wits right by their ends
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down
Hello, welcome, why don't you take a seat?
Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to
Now what's bothering you? Well, why don't we start at the beginning
Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?
Did you have xenon orchid sinews spilling down the outer center of your
Blooming Escher/Mandelbrot head?
And how about claustrophilic tendrils clapping caskets closed on seven-knuckle thumbs
Did you get along well with the Gideon Bugler pineal glands?
Your projector eyes casting sci-fi's on your STR'd strands?
Tell me about your nerve to steal nerves of steel from under Bacchus' bloody nose
Did Namibian Himbas tie-dye you, your ears pierced with a Phineas Gage flagpole
Did you die before your day?
Thursday traction, Tuesday titration
My hope is to assess through my objective report of
Your subjective conjecture
Whether this proprietary bled of expertise and seasoning works as well as this
Transorbital ice pick
Holistic ballistics, you got a better idea?
It's about the best we could come up with, what, you think ideas spread because they're good?
No, they spread because people like them
So now here we are once again, holding
As it were, a mirror up to your mirror
I guess it's just something people do
A bloody knife to split your infrastructure, wine to rev your motor function
Coital machinations of the dead
Well, you mainline your animus, karate chop your abacus
And learn to be an animal instead
But I never did think you better than this, your modus operandi causes
Nazi/Skoptzyism and suicide
Why to thine own self be true when it is you who are the problem
Not the things you do but something sick inside
Lithium and Dialectics, boy you really is defective
CBT don't seem effective for that Cluster B, accept it
Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects
You've lost your mind and almost lost your life before
So you'll be fine
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, and why would you want to look back?
I mean, it's no good looking back, so try to look forward now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
If they were going to get you boy, they would have by now
For what? For what? For what it's worth
There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down...
HE ESCAPED
I don’t know why but the thumbnail is just horrifying
What about Marsha thankk you for the shovel, im going in
HAH
WHAT
Oh hi kikat
what, where did go?
That was way too smooth tho
WHERE IS HE
Broooo fuck yeaaah
Nice 👍