I'm made of broken bones,
intricate schemes,
bang my head about dreams
I never had the time to dream.

I'm moving while being stuck,
I'm the nuttiest rotten nut,
get my head away with a six packs
in my one pack,

like Pacman
the leaderboard's my crack,
my mind trapped
in a one-too-many bedrooms flat,

I find the time to fly
away from broken expectations,
dream about vacation
from my self-amputation,

raging frustration running through my veins,
I look calm, but I'm about to blow this up,
I have no future,
hand with no palm, soul been ******,

I move away from the crowd,
I'ma just observe,
It's a scene I've already seen,
nothing's ever my concern.

I'm in the quiet
and I appreciate the sound,
it's the noise of all that I lost,
and the big nothing that I've found.

Stare at the landscape, observe the situation,
men and women feeding off each others frustration,
filling their day outta procrastination,
we're all ******* around with no real destination.

No deal out of it, our mind dying of starvation,
waiting for a lucky shot, location, location.
nothing to balance the weight of the equation,
new city, new job, just another bus station.

The landscape brings me back, makes me feel alive,
nothing feels more real than escaping a lie,
remember your roots, look at the other side,
wanna breathe on fresh air till the day I die.

Nothing worth caring - your ego, your pride,
try to get from the world what you can't find inside
clash with the people - love, hate, melt, collide
have the best shot at it, feel the breeze on your ride.

Nothing makes sense on its own that is true,
try to trace the footprints of the ones before you,
our roots are inside us, our trajectory due,
so come through, even if you ain't got a clue.

Yo! You only get on if you try to improve,
you get hurt the worse way when you don't make a move,
we're just blown by the wind - our main choice is to choose
your life ain't worth living with nothing to prove.

Life comes with movement, stick to the groove,
you can shape matter since its concept is loose,
the real power is being whatever you do,
we're all in charge of what's what and who's who.

It's the joy of the hunt not the pain of the ****
it's the run for your freedom not the catch nor the steal,
it's the contraddiction, it's movement being still,
there's nothing to lose so come in for the thrill.

The battle in the dog will be winning the fight,
always something to battle for a man with good sight,
it's not about ideas, there's no left and no right,
it's about living life always ready to bite.

Walk between the lights of a circus,
a man spitting fire, looking up, howling at the moon,
incomplete fragments of information like a rebus,
everything changing, everything's always soon.

Walk in circles watching past them, whaching thought.
Enjoying that bit of nature that surrounds us,
I wish the colors didn't fade, but then they do,
because we're all that's painted on this canvas.

---

Psychoactive breeze over the city when it's warm,
while I think, and part of my thinking goes to you.
And I know that it's just the silence before the storm,
but you know me - you know I'm just another fool.

Seen every type of mad beast in this crazy place,
fed them and watched them fighting through the glass,
so many people - not a single friendly face,
everything's just something to be walked past.

---

Racing lights, through the night, to the left, to the right,
got stuck, tripping 'bout the flowing of this life stream,
such a large city but everyone feels tight.
Trapping motions - one day grand, the other grim.

Everyone's from nowhere - the landscape grotesque,
dancing slowly to the rhytm of the city's beat,
in this multi-cultural, show of burlesque,
And you're part of it, still not sure if you fit in.

---

I'm holding up the pieces, makin' up day by day,
spend my time in the circus, dance along, going mad,
always talking, often with nothing to say,
take it as it comes, on the edge of the thread.

This is what I need now, I've already paid,
and you think it was me - not just me I'm afraid!
but there wasn't much done, there wasn't much said,
and I kept you out, but you'd have left anyway!

---

But you see, we rocked that ****, and we let it go.
I'm a memory, and I do realise it's my bad,
and I wish that we could at least remembered so,
'cause you left so much more than a shape in my bed.

So this is my letter, my thinking of you,
not to leave another chapter of my life unresolved,
and you're still in my smile, I hope you approve,
I just listened to my instinct, did what I was told.

Slave to society, slave to myself,
choking in this nightmare, chasing for wealth,
losing my health, here to pretend,
every pence that I earn I feel less content.

I never got back the message in the bottle that I sent,
I failed to understand, but I still spit as long as I stand,
I shut myself on the wrong side of the fence,
I used to be in attack, now stuck in defence.

Dusty, post-apocalyptic state of anxiety,
sold myself to the big dream of society,
can I get my freedom back, your majesty?
Wait another year mate, keep planning it!

Don't feel part of the world, I'm stuck between these bricks,
try to cheer the **** up mate, but the gray matter sticks,
have a deep dive inside myself while I smoke my fix,
Thank god I got numbers - Yeah, 666.

Travelling ******, In a world of promises,
ice in my bones, I'm ******, catatonic,
keeping it dope, fast thinking, fotonic,
always going down a *****, falling, chaotic.

Plan for your day, engineer, atchitect,
only start being yourself after the sunset,
materialise something new from a concept,
always slip down when I'm getting to the last step.

Kids are grown ups before grown ups realise they're past,
it takes time to have a plan and time goes too fast,
my past is repetitive, my future doesn't last,
I'ma be ****** up a little before being just dust.

No way to adjust, you can only have the best blast,
embrace your day, it's a must,
there is time for most things but no time for rest.
In the timeframe given always try to do your best.

Embrace your soul before it's covered in rust,
everyone's got one, so try to find your craft,
if you have one more hour, nothing more to ask,
Spend every single ******* day like it's your last.

Heavy bearing the day in the city of distress,
getting back to my place, in my head there's a mess,
tough to go to sleep, so I stick to my flask,
close up a rizla and take care of my skunk.

Every one racing up - for their personal clap-clap,
running through busy streets with no time to ghasp,
pale and invisible - modern day ghost.
City of kebabs vs beans on toast.

Sunshine's not much more than a shadow from the past,
people puking on toga on a late night bus,
need the medicine - to stop living in a rush,
in this massive brain-washing our life's running past.

I remember the food, I remember the taste,
I remember the beach and I wanna reframe,
I remember the nature, I'm afraid I'll forget,
I remember my life but there's no time for that.

---

9-to-5 ghospel, first-world rap, call it that,
blues for who's got answers, money for the rich ****.
I've no real complain, but it rains over my reason,
living in the city that's got only one season.

I need clearing up, fresh air from this prison,
needa breath something that don't smell like poison,
needa look outside at the end of the day,
and know that there is something beyond the grey.

Been staring for hours at an off-licence shelf,
browsing for nothing, maybe looking for myself,
lobotomised by the lifeless lights,
the only noise: the cars outside.

Nothing and everything - just floating around
a party on a boat, a rave underground,
the late night workers, the drop of a pound,
every night is the longest, every day passes by.

Lot of money goes wasted but nothing to buy,
This city is the woman that I'll never betray.
This city commands, you shut up and obey.
This city is the white, the black and the grey.