…Everything’s calculated.
9 a.m., the office—my laboratory,
Same faces, same suits, interchangeable parts.
“Personality” is just noise, “normal” is the optimum,
Components out of spec? Trash them—no exceptions.
“After-work drinks” are litmus tests of loyalty,
Extra hours invested? Proof of contribution.
Sell your private life, buy your position,
That’s the only rule in this society’s instruction manual.
Love, friendship—everything’s a resource trade,
Emotions are costs, tears just waste.
Life’s a burnout game with a pre-set goal,
Take everything before it’s gone, that’s the rule.
My love is just a strategy, a calculated design,
There’s only one correct answer, the rest are errors.
Are you my pawn… or just a bug in the system?
Your personality? Needs reprogramming,
I pour you into my ideal mold.
“Be yourself”? That’s lazy human nonsense,
Love is the work of correcting the imperfect.
Growth? Change? Foolish thoughts.
Humans peak the moment they’re born,
All that follows is slowing the decay.
Beauty, talent—they’re finite assets,
The smart ones know how to sell them high.
Life’s a burnout game with a pre-set goal,
Before you break, I take control of all.
Your love was just a variable in a world I redefine,
The correct answer is me, the rest is noise.
You’re nothing but background for my victory.
…Everything’s calculated.
