On
and on.
your hands and I ain't that.
Yeah, wave your arms.
He takes the long way home in hopes that no one
knows he's homeless,
drinks up all the spirits,
y'all let's hear it for the one and only soul he
hold me with poetry dripping from the post-it.
Notes and phoros in the lower seat and he wouldn't
nose up,
rolls through an immaculate height throughout the night,
citing he ain't poor.
With the role in a sober light,
hides the virus and the likes of ultraviolence in the pine and
like a crisis with the height,
imagines life without the line,
fly,
fly.
I don't know who
ever seen him,
but I know he's almost bonus,
there's a Caesar marine,
he's a dreamer,
drink
until he's fiend,
not almost keen to the venus since that's where we were made from,
but I
noticed you're gleaming,
heathen,
that's 90 times the density,
comatose propensity,
in a definite dependency on all that we pretend to be,
STOP,
stop it,
lock it off and keep on
talking,
see you conscious till it's 12am,
we're riding,
come a knocking at your cottage,
solve the lack of thought with vagabond,
streak the dream to tweak the beat to weaken knees and tag along,
see camouflage his decency to evenly the frequency,
recently he's reached to me to teach him how to freak the beat,
so here we go,
locally,
hopefully someone noticing,
hopefully when he known at home,
able to roam in globally,
they'll know it's you,
by the parasitic mammal I've learned to handle,
I'm a clapped tactfully causing scratching on my mandible,
I cannot cool out,
towel stout from my leaking pores,
my hand along the gallop,
he's out from a weekend whores,
I've endured more than the
average day by day and step by step of this,
and I've learned to follow more style than
a wild alluring feather,
boring weather,
maybe stand out over the lazy crowds,
spit the same
* never different from the beat and route,
I came to give knowledge,
little bits of folly,
spit the squeaky knowledge,
into the fullnessness of violence,
and so it goes,
on and on,
yeah,
throw your hands in the air, uh,
yeah,
sip the cord I'm alright if it sounds super duper
stupid,
like how my ranging language fluent,
new is cooler to the air,
they talk,
can't
show out,
but fake is taking jabs like from dark,
in their road house,
I moseyed out and
took the sounds I needed to breathe in,
and left all of the rest of what was left of what
I keep within it,
side the mind of survivors of live trauma,
like evil overseams,
I sold
the reeds,
the oldest ream,
the fall of hold ups,
stopped the bus,
hushed in it all,
let
it go,
what's planned,
I hold more than a single atom,
stacked inside my hand,
I can
only go just about as far as the thought,
before my brain,
it gets to twitching and
creating the clot,
I saw a lot of other days,
young and in prison and gazes,
but never saw
the light outside the bars in my cage,
and it's not that I imagine nothing out with a
glance,
but there were fetters,
little shackles to finagle my stance,
handed over,
said I
had the mirrored image of my style,
I'm limited and only just a minute outside this wrinkling
time,
better find the molecule,
don't ever run out from the molecule,
cruel and unusual,
mutually beautiful,
this is how we live and so much of what we do is juvenile,
who would
have known I'm off it,
rock of the night,
stalking,
prying off and on the thoughts and
the nails of the coffin,
off a larger broader scale,
a half in the Jewish carpenter,
harvest
the lot of my knowledge,
constantly book and the mock apocalypse,
argue I'm on a kick,
40 days and I'm off the grid,
it's like a mongrel,
sensibility,
silly if not a sin,
I'm a leaver to the congregation,
painfully patient,
taking pauses inside my sermon,
leaving hanging on statements,
this lake of matches got unspastic,
books on the shelves,
but the only thing that remains is for them to think for themselves,
but uh-uh,
know where
they happen,
if flaccid dream,
the temaculate,
happen to stack them in patches,
protect the
maverick, stagger remix them.
Uh.
Cookies.
Yeah.
Yeah.