Bleeding Warm And Newly Dead

If bound by complication
The ratio of my exaggeration
Is all mixed up
Between ceters and miles
The measurement of the situation
Is a diagram of a useless
Escape plan
The defeat is bleeding warm
And newly dead
And even if I drilled enough
Holes in your head
The diameter would not let
Enough oxygen in (to activate
The compounds in) your
Brain to think