Timing rhymes Does it heal Proximity Close to feel And this crutch It’s a spinning wheel Imagine us getting killed And then you see it in your sleep It just repeats and repeats Sometimes I'm the only hero And sometimes it's you who's saving me We watch it on tv Getting killed in societies across nationalities, we catch you screaming in your sleep Sometimes you gotta bleed We'll leave you to patch it up yourself 'cause You're all you really need This is what it means to be free We catch you getting help we lock you up, it's the rules of the games, money paper book tree Paper cures us all the time in the schools, the libraries, and outdated trees in the courtyards They say nobody reads ours Nobody has gotta breathe trees for any hours unless you breed ours Gotta pay to breathe Repeat repeat First breath I'm writing on paper Breathe in again we on the crystal Square shining on my face We're mentally chasing the sun that never satisfies Looking for light in all the wrong places we're constantly mystified by how it never seems to last
I'll chase the light in your eye a day before I die staring at the fire of the sun as it slips to early morn where Luna's shining in the storm
So fierce but lonely does she seem without the fire burning her soul to gleam so clean
We scream fire ****** bathroom sinks filled the graves the shining metal gleams gory ****** are sipping tears from powder quakes
We rake the crowds with raining sun so one day we pray we'll see the light of glory goddesses to be won
We’re shambling ourselves We're lying in the muck Crying ghostly in our sleep trying to beat the sound of screaming sheep
One side of me growing closer to the sun, she weeps, I'm drowning in these sheets She pulls me closer and questions me My split soul is a far reach
Why even ask why you're trying I know what we’re finna keep I'm glad who I meet We should shatter in these streets
I know what you're asking me But I don't think you're saying it quite right I don't think we have the time I'm riddling you and me we're questioning
I don't know how to say it fine How to finesse the letters to make em mine Dancing phrases of better days but I know I haven't yet paid the price to pay to shave the way of better feelings
But standing in this storm I'm reeling I'm hiding, cover, summer stealing smiles from off the deep end brothers flaked and waked you out you baked in heat from another paper so timeless easy smoking
Like my father, a toking fighter lighter laugh on the wall to appall and adore show us more the universe is sure that we're lurking for a cure
Lurking in the hard to reach forbidden injustices in the back of memories of these contemplated possibilities rolling over thots like a crusted raw prince’s
Tongues never seem to think of where their words travel whether they keep their mouth shut or mind open maybe closed like the door to this blocked soul
I want to write and I do kind of sometimes get something out of me that I haven’t seen before. Times like these I can’t get more. I’m bore such a sore grasping, letting go in the face of someone I adore. I need you. I can’t do this without you I need somewhere to keep my heart arrest while I dive into these depths of ***** streets, dungeons in the roots of mind where lies me dead and stagnant. Disgusting ******* written on walls in these tunnels, gulping all love, dear please spit out your fears you may never know the destinations of your timeless travels. But I yearn to, I dig deep scratching at my skull trying to figure out who I am and why and who I am supposed to be in this world, I twitch at thoughts of happiness while dreaming of death I plead, for better days and understanding I’ve never been fond of this blissful lie. We all die we all live we all run to jump to fly as high as we can possibly imagine knowing that one day we will fall only to be picked up by lovers still floating in the trees. My guardian angels of my soul. We speak to the trees of ancestors of these trying again to win our hearts back from these time never healing devil memories. We only sleep to name the trees our memories. They say our hair contains our memories. If that’s how you really feel, squeal.