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I saw a Way, forward and cloaked myself in the skin of a Digital dimension. I began living cloud-soaring and ascending soft then the headset came off. Now curtains are retreating, from the light streaming into my shrinking eyeballs. Ow! To whit, I prefer to refer to it now as a Path. Plans fail, but Paths diverge.
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Feb 13, 2021
Feb 13, 2021 at 10:53 AM UTC
Jimbalaya
On My Marvellous Plan to Improve My Immediate Situation
I saw a Way, forward and cloaked myself in the skin of a Digital dimension. I began living cloud-soaring and ascending soft then the headset came off. Now curtains are retreating, from the light streaming into my shrinking eyeballs. Ow! To whit, I prefer to refer to it now as a Path. Plans fail, but Paths diverge.
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CAR OF THE WEEK MAN OF THE MOMENT GIRL OF THE MONTH HORSE OF THE YEAR SALE OF THE CENTURY Better start an inventory Check what’s missing Hear the gas hissing Don’t even think….. about dissin this lyric I’m spittin out LAVA TORNADO TYPHOON So you’ll see very soon How strong your Mother really is! The Question is not an answer in itself There’s more to food than the price on the shelf There’s more to life than hoarding wealth There’s more to this than meets the eye BUT WHY? Bother with a question Just live On AUTO-SUGGESTION WHY NOT? Count, Weigh and Measure All the things that you find And make yourself BLIND To the fact that this IS “my FLESH” that you’re BURNIN and LOOTIN those are my LUNGS that you’re CHOKIN with you’re SMOKIN this is my BLOOD that’s FLOWIN FULLA NOXIOUS SUBSTANCES Whilst the Stock Market CASH BOOM CRASH BOOM CASH CASH on DEMAND GOLD from my TEETH Con-sumer demand OIL from my belly below FUTURES DEMAND FINAL DEMAND Sale of the Century Everything must go So you know Who you are When you wake up Saying “wot’s up?” You may have to cup A hand to your ear So you hear Very clear This lyrik I’m chatting The voice I am passing The word of “the MOTHER OF ALL F**KERS…. GOOD EVENING SUCKERS…!” Time to wake up alarm bell ringing Fluid in my lungs make birds stop singing whales stop swimming iceberg melting Spells change Smells strange When viewed up close Where the dose Is the strongest But strangest Of all Is the fall From grace From the bottom of the list Of endangered species You’ve carved niches Genocided species Built follies Burnt witches Dug ditches Built fences Against yourselves Against your spouses Within your houses of detention Prevention Is better than cure The water has to be pure If we can be sure, what constitutes pure? SO Better do some catchup Have a mental checkup Don’t crackup Or blowup Or turnup LATE For your own Great Escape Don’t leave it too late Your Mother can’t wait To have a big shake And scratch off her fleas And boil up the seas A few thousand degrees Then you’ll see A sale of the century Where everything goes Up the nose Of who do you suppose? And whose eye will it sting When fire I bring From down below My oceans Ancient potions Alchemical lotions Make motions Measured in Richter scales Southern gales Beached whales Mothers wail Another sale Of a slave To the rhythm of madness To the rhythm divine The divine intervention The total dissection Of my very womb Crash Boom crash Boom Closing down sale While stocks last Last few days Everything must go at the SALE OF THE CENTURY
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 5:02 PM UTC
johnny-solstice
SALE OF THE CENTURY....1999
CAR OF THE WEEK MAN OF THE MOMENT GIRL OF THE MONTH HORSE OF THE YEAR SALE OF THE CENTURY Better start an inventory Check what’s missing Hear the gas hissing Don’t even think….. about dissin this lyric I’m spittin out LAVA TORNADO TYPHOON So you’ll see very soon How strong your Mother really is! The Question is not an answer in itself There’s more to food than the price on the shelf There’s more to life than hoarding wealth There’s more to this than meets the eye BUT WHY? Bother with a question Just live On AUTO-SUGGESTION WHY NOT? Count, Weigh and Measure All the things that you find And make yourself BLIND To the fact that this IS “my FLESH” that you’re BURNIN and LOOTIN those are my LUNGS that you’re CHOKIN with you’re SMOKIN this is my BLOOD that’s FLOWIN FULLA NOXIOUS SUBSTANCES Whilst the Stock Market CASH BOOM CRASH BOOM CASH CASH on DEMAND GOLD from my TEETH Con-sumer demand OIL from my belly below FUTURES DEMAND FINAL DEMAND Sale of the Century Everything must go So you know Who you are When you wake up Saying “wot’s up?” You may have to cup A hand to your ear So you hear Very clear This lyrik I’m chatting The voice I am passing The word of “the MOTHER OF ALL F**KERS…. GOOD EVENING SUCKERS…!” Time to wake up alarm bell ringing Fluid in my lungs make birds stop singing whales stop swimming iceberg melting Spells change Smells strange When viewed up close Where the dose Is the strongest But strangest Of all Is the fall From grace From the bottom of the list Of endangered species You’ve carved niches Genocided species Built follies Burnt witches Dug ditches Built fences Against yourselves Against your spouses Within your houses of detention Prevention Is better than cure The water has to be pure If we can be sure, what constitutes pure? SO Better do some catchup Have a mental checkup Don’t crackup Or blowup Or turnup LATE For your own Great Escape Don’t leave it too late Your Mother can’t wait To have a big shake And scratch off her fleas And boil up the seas A few thousand degrees Then you’ll see A sale of the century Where everything goes Up the nose Of who do you suppose? And whose eye will it sting When fire I bring From down below My oceans Ancient potions Alchemical lotions Make motions Measured in Richter scales Southern gales Beached whales Mothers wail Another sale Of a slave To the rhythm of madness To the rhythm divine The divine intervention The total dissection Of my very womb Crash Boom crash Boom Closing down sale While stocks last Last few days Everything must go at the SALE OF THE CENTURY
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139