Things are just a thing sometimes.
Going through phases in this life.
The stars and planets are planners.
They tell you something if you listen carefully.

There have always been things carefully set up to push you in the right direction.
You have to follow, there's no other way.
Your path is so magical or so extremely horrifically hard.
But it's yours and yours only.

Embrace the light you see in front of you.
You can walk to it.
It's alright, it'll lead you home.
Embrace it cause it will happen and you will be save.
But oh what a journey and oh the things you must give, I know!

Things are just a thing sometimes.
Going through phases in this life.
The end phase is the hardest when you have to end it yourself.
You went through a part of the old times before they changed.
They changed for the better.

You helped in the change but you had to go through it.
The pain and the battle.
Embrace it cause it will always happen and you will be save.
But oh what a journey and oh the things you must give, I know!

today i feel like putting a gun to my temple
colt .45 ravaged my cranium only so i don't have to go to temple
no more sins i need to have confessed
polished sleek glock; my prayer ejected through the chamber
PULL THE TRIGGER -- FUCKN PULL IT MAN!!
hold on, the last time i come to terms with contraband
am i filled with love,  joy, despair or anger?
all i need is my reverend spirit to unclothe its self
i no longer succumb to the falsity of needing to have impressed


cut the gesture man
you just be playing chicken
but when i quit playing
you'll hear me squawk
one shot you'll know i've been stricken
farmer Joe tell him this is his last wake-up call
and that bright light in the mornin bruh
we all know sunrises don't last for a split second  


POP! muuu fckkkaaa

I've exhausted every option so that I have something to do
But boredom is after me like it's a ghost
People rant like this is a jail
Tell me, where else would you try something new fail after fail
This is a tangled time, atleast that's how it appears
You're at home for 18 weeks and not 18 years
Look at that couch-potato
What has he accomplished?
But now that I'm on the couch,
Atleast I can be a hero

there is a hum in the backdoor of my mind
collecting all the dead birds and spare parts that
have lost their shine
i haven't got anywhere to put them
so theyve coloured in my entire house
feathers swamp the living room
powders of rust inhale the kitchen
and for years i could've cracked my fingers, taken off my shoes, dug up the broom and swept the floors
clean
but ive grown used to the company,
that can't possibly hurt me,
of broken things that mostly lie still