Crooked teeth sharpen.. like stoned-brains.....when the widow takes light.
Bus-pass funerals feeding the satanic presidents who have never seen the love of night.
Drags upon drags UPON DRAGS... of prescription biblical realities. Which fed them
but seem to kill my possibility.
If love and life and will are work. Then why do we go to work?
So I can get some head and not have to jerk?
The pain of despair puts me against a fucking wall.
Hey! Fuck it! I've got some face on my balls.
The bright are ghosts and pure fiction.
All are artists who are paid exist as contradictions.
If I'm ever "PAID" and living off my dreams.
I know I'll become a get rich quick scheme.
Money isn't mine. Belongs to mankind. Help us all out of binds. Give humans some time. They crossed the line. Come straight from behind. Allow me to remind. Why there really is crime. Throw some paper drop a dime. Screw your friends you'll be fine. You got that shine.
You got that precious fully equipped with payments that keep you locked down.
Might as well be a prison. My minds coming down.