The curse of this town is all in my mouth. I'm drowning in its misery. This whole place is going south, and getting so **** empty. My fancy friends with their fancy cars, take their money and they go so far. They're all too good for me, you see, I'm just a city kid with no money. I hate this town its so dressed up and all my friends don't give a ****. One day they'll realize that their money and their cars, won't get them all too far. Cause their common sense got lost, somewhere in the gloss and glitz and gleam and glamour. So now money's all that matters.

In rooms of stiff air, hold tight to your collapsing lungs
running out in the blissful, swirling air resetting your lids and taking to dancing
if you're still running, you're the lucky one
because we all tiptoe on the wrinkle between reality and fantasy
peeking over the cusp of brilliance
fearful of the flying dance on the open swirling air
diving into an unspoken fate
of landing indefinitely on either side of reality and fantasy

but did we miss the opportunity
to paint it all simultaneously exactly how we saw it
viewing each life as an absolute timeline, disregarding the space beyond zero and infinity is where we fault
using the transcendental space to paint your skies and life is where we make change
determining the merge from one life to another is subjective
so paint your new life today
dive into your excellence
fight for the dance on the open air under the grinning sun
make sense not of these words but of the blending of your next masterpiece
who are you today, if not who you want to be right now?