Between information and entertainment
While I practice my own divination
From criticism and determination
I find that I'm deteroatinng
Before all my summer leaves turn red
And fall to hit the ground so dead
I practice every page I read
Recitie it a million times in head
Then deep in my globes core if woes
Where more than the hottest magma flows
My thoughts turn to plasma
I cannot stop the phantoms bantar
So if I super solider
The serum imperium
I shall shake the frustrate if the open hand you take
Supported?