Disfigured type of senses.
I figure God has got it
I think I got it
My body needs freaking audit.
My nasal blockage
Caused by...
Little rocks.
That get you feeling awesome...
I hate the monster
I keep in the closet.
I feed it ****. And pure *******.
So it'll will clean the carpet...

But deep inside
I dream of fleeing.
For the Belizean tropics.
Green trees.
Cool water.
And freedom.
From keeping secrets.
In the deep dishonest