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Word Smyth May 2014
The golden nutcase - with an open and shut case/
View - on the few that are frozen in one place/
No, not this reality/
But a tragedy - of reoccurring blasphemy/
Toward the true God - who is rapidly/
Building up loads of agony/
Since humans are losing their sanity/
By rejecting love and worshiping vanity/
Such a malady - but thankfully/
In all actuality - God is a totality/
So in the end/
He will descend/
And share is fantasy, of morality/
In order to create a peaceful galaxy/
Without the the fallacy - of individuality/
You see, that is his strategy - so actually/

In the end - they call me crazy but I'm just the messenger/
Who registered - God as the editor of this earth/
He may give you death - but he also gives you birth/
Now it's up for you, to decide what it's worth/

Be yourself and **** low self-esteem/
'Cause life itself is steam/
It doesn't matter how yourself is seen/
By other beings/
Real recognize real - no need to change you/
Only the fakes out there wanna rearrange you/
Estrange you and cage you/
They fear the truth inside - so they hide - behind a mask just like Kane do/
At first they appear like an angel/
But shortly after they reenact the Story of Cain & Abel/
They're simply not able/
To deal with the cradle/
Of their wicked thoughts - and become unstable/
Unfaithful/
Toward their true self/
Mistaking true wealth/
With materialistic garbage/
Until their view is tarnished//
Word Smyth May 2014
So many ~ words to choose from/
I throw away some crumbs/
'Cause I know the ~ birds can use some/
See - That's a superiority complex/
Think about the context/
Because the wordplay - is flyer than anything the birds say/
I'm shifting minds like earthquakes, shift earth plates/
Tec-tonic/
The Gin/Djinn made me sin/
Now I'm spraying shots chronically/
But I maintain ~ due to puffin that yellow green/
It helps me enter ~ into a mellow dream/
Where I can contact the Elohim/
Who give me signs of fellow beings/
That live far off in deep space/
They try to help me e-scape/
From this mean fate, of the weak race/
We call humans/
Consumers who love living the Truman Show/
But hate anything a true man shows/
And exposes/
Because they're caught in hypnosis.

— The End —