Magic is not an illusion, it's a mouthful of music
you chew and keep chewing 'til the world starts moving
and the rain that plagued you plays see through
When the bruised ozone loosens then opens to reveal
a sky scholars thought disproven, look through it
It's there you'll find your feet even if your head
feels like an anchor sinking in concrete
I can only bend these words so much before
they or I break but that wont stop me from
abusing the pressure points I'm trying to make
I'd swallow a thousand pills so long as they looked
like you and never would I puke no matter the pain
even if I felt Death's embrace pull my name
I don't know what I need, but if I did
I'd crawl like a dog through the dirt to its feet
and beg for mercy, just keep me from the brink
I don't want to think

I'm chomping on heavenly bodies and
the planets loitering their orbit
hoping to absorb any life that may be dormant
A last ditch attempt at terraforming my decent
Tho I think my receipt will read like a sun blistered sticker
slipping through the breeze
Forgive my apprehensiveness
We're all here for the cheese
no need to pretend like that aint the decree

Mold me into munition for that elusive nimbus
so I can choke on 21st century carbon emissions
It's an exhibition on long lost mannerisms
we've kept hidden from mainstream modernism
It's what kick-starts our canines in the dark
That tickle down your throat that bites like bark
A ******* dart cuddled by a vampire's heart

When nuclear becomes fusion and our computers
stop computing we will reclaim what it means to be human
Magic is not just an illusion it's a mouthful of music
you chew and keep chewing til your eyes visualize solutions
You don't need to be a mathematician to grasp the equation
just be you and keep moving in a disorderly fashion

Chains are chains regardless of their length
I prefer mine akin to an anchor so I can conquer
the depths of this bottomless bunker
The drain leads towards terrain that looks more like rain
and that's where you can find the best air to breath

One page, Two page, Three page.....
****! They're all blank. Now what, *****?

Sat face to face with the faceless
It feels like a walk through the Ages
A long forgotten Gazer's contest
with an army of the rottenly oppressed
where you try 'n' find the slightest slight of progress
It's super duper glue for the clinically obtuse
shooters churning in their itty bitty booths
You learn the dance
Get to experience true trance
'til it becomes such a ***** ******* nuisance
that your left clawing at your two front
just for the chance to taste the illusion of choosing
Attack of the modern-day zombie
Hello, my name is IRobot

Let us dethrone this ***** little clone,
put him back in the barn where he belongs;
next to the other dozen standalone stepping
stones collectively gathering dust to the dome.

A collection of crazies chasing overblown
daisies in a field of belated phrases. Like,
"Three lines should get you going, Homie!"
(I love you)
how about
(NO! *******)

Where's your patience? Did you check the back pages?
What's a death race without 1st place?
It's death before dishonor or have you already forgotten?
All we ever wanted was to flagpole our importance.


Crusading sapiens stay pounding their chest
while these invading aliens blend in with the rest
and I'm two pills past drunk waiting for the pending
blimp on your radar to changeling into a Death Star.