A pixie marching band took their show on the road.
17 tiny horn players and a drummer
with a button for a snare.
Across the water they walked,
regimented in three lines,
playing "Has The Day So Quickly Ended" to the rhythm of water splashing
on finely cobbled pixie shoes.
Tireless they moved forward
across an entire ocean
seeking comfort and solitude of Icelandic shores.
Unnoticed by the many captains of the many ships they slipped by, their music nothing more than crickets chirping or the ringing in their ears.

It was a long journey and they never stopped playing once.
Seven hundred and seventy-six songs in their repertoire
they played each one at least twice as days turned to night
and the cycle would need to be repeated
Every pixie musician in the band had every one of those songs memorized
you could call the tune
at any time
day or night
he would pick up his pixie instrument and play it note perfect.
Not a single mistake.

Legendary songs of pixie lore, like "Call The Wild Dogs to Anglicize", "Too Many Curtains" and "Fill Your Cup With Salty Seltzer".
Popular pixie songs all pixies knew, like "Bertha You're a Hard Act to Follow", "Dropped My Horn in the Bay of Pigs", "Livestock", "Ain't No One Answerin' the Phone" and "Drop Yer Pillow, Samuel".
Sacred pixie songs celebrated their common faith in the one true God, like "God, There Ain't No Other God", "Our God Sails the Seven Seas" and "God Help the Fool Who Fools His God".
Pixie drinking songs, "Bottoms Up", "Can You Hear the Weeping Warm Beer?", "1-2-3 Let's All Get Drunk", "Pixie Drinking Song" and "Hustle That Swill".

A lot of songs.
A lot of moods.
A lot of reasons to go  home to Iceland,
as if they needed any besides the food.

The pixie band was pushing three-quarters of the marching journey across the ocean
when Big Jim Pixie turned around and scolded Billy Joe the trombone player.

"Bill, you clumsy *******!" barked Big Jim. "You just about hit me in the back of the head with that ******* trombone slide! Do I have to tell you what I'm going to do to you if you actually graze me with that spit-drippin' thang?"

Billy Joe, typically soft spoken, was not having any of this.

"It was a flying fish that whisked up 'gainst the side of yer noggin, not my slide. If I was of a mind to bean you with this here slide you'd be rubbing the back of your head right now and you'd be so shook up you wouldn't even know it was me that done it."

"You sure do talk tough now, don't ye?" asked Big Jim, reluctantly realizing that it could well have been a flying fish but not yet willing to let the trombone player off the hook. "Don't make me turn around cuz if I do you are going to be in the market for a new trombone."

"That's a well may be, Jim-Jim, but the hand that holds the pen that signs the check that pays for it is going to be yours. Let that stand as a natural fact."

If there's one thing in the world Big Jim didn't like being called
it was Jim-Jim.
Billy Joe was always calling him Jim-Jim because he knew it bugged him.
The pixies in the company had all used variations on his name when referring to him in the past  
Jimbo Johnson,
Johnny Jimson,
Little Jim Big Jim,
Jimmy Jolson,
George Jimson,
Son James the Ham Chef,
Carl Jim Has Been,
King James Version Abridged,
James Wainright Teller,
Jim the Traitor,
Jim the Christ Killer,
Jim the Destroyer of the World,
Jim the Enemy of the Known Universe  
each one of these appellations rankled him but none so thoroughly as the simple
Jim Jim
that Billy Joe would call him.

"I ain't payin' a ******* cent, trombone player."

"Then you ain't breakin' my trombone, Jimmy Jack Jehosaphath."

"Don't test me, you may have to arrest me."

"I'll bring you a file so you can get out of jail, Jim Jim".

"Well that's mighty white of you, pixie. Now what are you gonna do if that spit valve was leakin' and you got some of your nasty ebola saliva on the back of m'neck? You gonna come visit me in the hospital?"

"I might. But then again I might just wait and come visit your grave when they put you down."

"Joe, if we weren't still marchin' I swear to almighty God I would turn around and beat you so bad they'll be countin' a man short when we finally get home."

"Jim Jim, them's fightin' words but you ain't never fought nothing no tougher than the urge to **** in public. You ain't gonna do no permanent damage to me nor my trombone here. So why don't you put your money where your mouth is or keep that mouth shut?"

Big Jim turned around
hit Little Joe hard square between the eyes.
He heard and felt bone crack.

Joe looked stunned.
He'd never call that mean ******* Jim Jim again.
No,
never again
because he hit the water hard and sank down as the band marched right over him,
most not even noticing.

Jim looked for as long as he could then turned around and proceeded to march the rest of the way to Iceland.

"Don't call me Jim Jim," he said, speaking only to himself.

Then he heard a voice in the back of his head.
It was loud enough to be heard over the
music
and
the waves
and
the ocean breeze.

It was HIS voice,
but he had no control over it whatsoever.

"Jim Jim."

"Jim Jim."

"Jim Jim."

...and so it was Big Jim, whose trumpet playing had practically defined the style of this particular pixie band, lost his mind, eventually taking up residence in a Reykjavik sanitarium screaming every night, keeping up the attendants and making things worse.

"Little Joe Jangly Hops! Come here you ******* I got a lollipop for ya."

"Joe Joe Deathgrip Toenail! I'm gonna light your mama on fire!"

"Little Joe Clamfry, somebody took a **** in your bed!"

On and on he went until the people in the kitchen stopped giving him bananas. Then he stopped for awhile.

But only for awhile.

[ final, before flight ]
learnt through dusty feet
and stomachs growlin’ their
dyin’ growls. days and weeks
with leakin’ roof, and
nature’s bountiful army
marchin’ on and through.
candle-lit synthetic canvas
absorbin’ fired raditation,
*** upon baked ground
starin’ at drunken fire pit –
conversed two hours, and
with dawn one side meld’d
in the dancin’ orange and reds.
walk’d macadame, in full June
the tar bubbled to the surface
and patch’d holed soles –
surfaced skin, turn’d black.
graveyard of gypsum;
burnt out child’s playground;
horse protectin’ territory, or life;
pawnin’ everything not bolt’d down –
death of materialism,
birth of a ******* mentality.
bought Black-and-Milds so to
reroll a few cigarettes,
save wood tip for later use.
save everything for later use,
stash everything for later use.
stab’d in stupidity and
made to mend the wound with
worries of:
   will i use this hand again?
[ C ]
cryin’ for Annie, cryin’ out,
knowin’ she will return without
my concern. knowin’ she’s
probably rummagin’
through some neighbor’s house.
cryin’ out. cryin’ out.
lyin’ down on pallet’d floor,
gettin’ usher’d out so
she could ****.
[ A ]
mouse detectives on VHS,
an awkward glance at left –
all the signs, none of the glory.
misdirectin’ for no reason,
reappearin’ without reason,
disappearin’ for every reason.
[ T ]
road impart’d day’s heat
through all the night, and
moon lit unknown paths.
cryin’ out, peddlin’ faster,
carryin’ weight in
hope at final penance.
no penance.
[ O ]
an artist’s rush,
turn’d paper to masterpiece
with seemin’ lack of effort.
stole heart, keel’d in, cast off to
placebo girl in roomate’s bed.

- - - abrupt ending

yea big yosef
expose government expos
that's all I know
so **** the cash flow
but I make cash flow like creflo
never chased a dolla
yo it makes me wanna holla
not talking Marvin Gaye
um tAlking bout the words I lay spray
techs but prefer aks miss ya next birthday
make ya best ya worse day
never thirsty
stay quenching like Gatorade
make serenades
in the street
ask big leech
we after the money and the power
leaving scars on ya face
eradicate the weak out the race
I set the pace beat the case
cuz they know they place
uh we mob like Italians Mafioso's
put holes in ones
like gulf course
with ya open torso so
ya know
the game is to be sold not told
and since I'm standing large
you know we don't fold holdem
like texas pushing lexuses beamers caddys to
Bentley coupes
quick to shoot through my 30 odd six poppin licks like kilos bricks
in the hood it's understood
that when we play the game
we go for flames
but miss the burn though
we go ever where riots show quick blows
make for blood out ya nose
fluid leakin mind sinking
I mo assist than pastors to deacons
**** Spanish broads
from Columbian to Puerto Rican
I'm seekin
out the best from east north south and the west I guess
I'm tying to take down the commission
no General admjssion just listen
closely to the sounds of shots glocks pops it don't stop
til the elite off the top


uh who ya know do it better
pack a berretta
still.rock Cosby Coogi Sweaters
get hos ***** wetter ***** slayer mack mayor
say ya rhymes with me
the best on the master of the ceremonies
like ghost P come close to thee
watch my gun burn thee
like sun burn ****** neva get a turn
after i touch the mic
i melt **** hotter than lava get
out of a volcano
kick rhymes since i was embryo
make ****** sing soprano
if they try to my money though
we flips keys then take trips to Belize
sneeze
on the track bless me says me
my pedigree is nasty as nas back in 93
ya see naw cuz i braille spotlight
n the limelight come in yo dreams at night
freddie cougar with tha 9 double m luger
make bodies flex like lex lugar
i drive a jaguar 20 inch rims across the bar ghetto superstar
n think before ya speak
think before ya blink?
my rhymes be confusin' as a riddle from the Sphinx
they can jinx
me all they want but all they get is a gun taunt amerikkaz most wanted
pop steels only if ya want it
representin' like ****** in the pen holdin' down on lock
i **** a glock for every year
that ya aint on the block
one luv to my army none can harm
if i got nations forming
every brother gotta ski mask
quick to blast from the past to present
never get tense or hesitant
we drop ******* puff on phillies
knock fools out til they look ****** n silly
i can go on & on til tha break of dawn
rappers get no delight when i grab the mic its like friday night lights
uh one punch one round
n you can tell i won before it begun
by listening to the crowds sound uh

yo the homie Juan C
pass the mic to me
so i wreck this beat
like SPC protege of k rino
hos call me mandingo poppin' ***** tapes demo
never rode a limo
only smokes primo n got pitches in otcos
8 bars make ya see the star im far from soft
f them boys in the nawf
woth south side ****** til we die
we ride with the hardest regardless
if they try to break our clique
we still gone spit ****
like a cobra ya know its over
once the venom in em then couple.of minutes later
finish em
mortal combat **** all the rats
despise chit chat call my youngest ** ***** cat
pack a black gat
we push loot in the golden regal
every thang we do is illegal
lethal
as gibson they don't want none
boys crackin' rhymes til the crack of dawn
then wake up next day just
to bust another one
my OGs rollin' with Don Key n Pokey
hardest in the pit
and if you disagree we make haters **** our ****
sloppy **** no ****
them ******* can lick the pigment off a ***** stick
but i play it safe n cool
cuz hos try to burn you
got it played smooth groove
to the sound bound to get down
if ya down bow down listen to the gun shots sounds
now ya leakin' where ya be speakin'
now ya body tweekin' n geekin'
soon to crossover
like epmd mic check ya know me my crew be
fascinating minds with our hocus pocus never lose focus
my raw raps got them nervous
got Juan C next to me
and got the tech services
and no playin now from the htown
still holding top with no crown
dont need a status we the baddest
turn the lane three wheel leanin' with bird chirpin'
still smokin' up the scene
with clip fully loaded magazine
glock cocked we aint gone stop
sip the prometh to the day i drop
dont stop
the music cadillac funky so ya know im gonna abuse it
drip up drapped out know what im talking bout
deep in the south we put guns in ya mouth
no flappin' we stay strappin'
like willis ya know whats happenin'
and we aint gone stop the rappin'
mad at us cuz we bring the real
o so real make every nation feel
what them southern slangers do
dangerous as the Bronx Zoo
what ya wanna do
with stay with more than sun tzu when death comes to you
them boys n blue
cant save u
on the mic i gets wicked after a meal ticket sadistic
as charlie manson
got a twenty two mansion
followed a long benz with the big blue lens
zero percent window
so i can smoke my indow
what they dont know wont show
follow the peckin' order my game smarter
jaun n yosef isthe real hip hop martyrs
and we ready to battle
sogo ahead and shake ya rattle
cuz we'll be quick to slaughter


yea man let me come through
versace with the blue
jeans coming clean sip lean
with an ounze of promethazine fiends
be on the look out
cuz ya know im about
to clown harder than Corey Holcomb
boys gettin' dumb dumb
got hos thats chewin bubble gum
shakim' *** too fast
make a ***** urge for a ***** lick
yea im rollin' with the *******
up clique we sick
as a muthafucka
enticin' all types of diseases
cuz the lyrical content pleases
many foes and hoes
i wear baggy clothes with jabos
dont ya know
im rap don vito stack chips like frito
lay i parlay
on sittin on the dock of the bay
jammin k
or that *****
htown is how we do?
ride ***** with the bulls
euro grills caprice with pipes made of steel
o so real still
got every nation on they feet
they cant feel
this uh coming down on ya blvd
ya can see me on tv or 60 inch screens dvd
**** blue rays i rock ray ban shays
like Mj ya can catch me on a fade
doing what i do in the paint
with a Styrofoam cup full of drank
grams of dank
smoke so much we cant think
eyes cant blink im on the brink
of an overdose
ya suppose to rock the flows like me
im like biggie
spittin the classic mr magic
girls call my **** game fantastic
stretch ***** holes like elastic
leave her visions plastered
like she drunk as ****
im pushin luck six flat riding a black truck
40 oz in the gut gangsta strut
im the best ***** whatttt?
im ina rage one luv to homies
in the cage
when i hit the stage
ya know the crowds gone get wild
im flagrant like a fouls problem child
use my cash bills to fans thrills
no spills on *******
ya know the deal
hos be reachin' still teachin'
n im all about mass appeal

I cant blame the influence that defined the ear
Or poke fun at the child with a leakin defined tear.
Some have roamed the ocean and remained perfect in their own,
But to the one who created a master piece
Blind to the definitive night mustve been prone
To such acts a long time ago.
You’re praised, just watch out for Brutus.
Matter of fact, tell him to secure his hand from himself
Most arent ready, but to you I say, “Run and never come back.”
You already are… Oct 30 12:21 good morning

Warning: I rarely drop f bombs in my poetry...but this is most definitely an exception. Please see link in notes. Thank you!


I was thinking on the way home from work in my car that has no air conditioning because as we all know, air conditioners in cars rarely last past 100,000 miles and make a great excuse for getting a new car. That’s why car manufacturers put ******* ac’s in cars. That's why car manufacturers don't like any new ideas like something other than that **** we've been running on for 100 ******* years. Ever wonder how we can make an electric car for the moon in the 60's, but for the most part we're still running on Exxon 50 years later?! Ever wonder why there's been no new innovations in getting our fat ***** around? Ever wonder why the few electric cars we finally have are so ******* expensive? Jesus, wake the **** up! Anyway, I was thinking about how this was the 3rd day in a row of 99 degree temps and how anything over 90 degrees was a rarity when I was a kid. So I gotta say Al Gore had his **** together…Inconvenient Truth baby! So, what the **** happened to Al Gore...thank you! So I get home and stand in front of my ac for 10 minutes because I’m sweatin’ my *** off. Then I turn on the tv to relax for a few minutes and I see that oil is still leakin’ in the Golf. Haven’t they fixed that **** yet? Why ain’t these ******* in jail? Millions of gallons of oil going through a pipe into a boat and they got no ******* plan to stop it if it ***** up? Way to go BP, you stupid *****! Oh, and thank you for keeping an eye on this **** for us…whatever department we are paying taxes out the *** for keepin' an eye on this **** for us! Also, gotta’ give a shout out to my buddies at Exxon once again who dragged their ***** through court for 20 years and ended up paying 10% of what they were originally ordered to pay for dropping millions of gallons of your precious oil into the Prince William Sound. Did you send thank you cards to the Supreme Court for kissin’ your ***** you collective pile of ****! How many thousands of lives did you ruin? Do you think about that…**** no! A few years ago I laughed when I saw somethin' on the web that said the 911 attack was planned. Now that **** was even too far out there for me to believe. Then I saw Mr. Bush tell a reporter that he saw the first plane hit the first building on tv before he went into that school. Think about that **** for a minute. JFK assassination…after years of reading books on this and seeing documentaries…I found out that even the Zapruder film has been spliced and diced from the get-go to possibly cover up a head shot from Kennedy’s left side. I said ‘possibly’ because I just don’t ******* know and none of us will until somebody that does tells us the truth. The truth...remember what that is? Maybe not...because we rarely hear it. God knows enough witnesses tried to tell the truth. They ended up either dead or scared of being dead. Ever hear of the Harper fragment? Look it up! The one thing that plays over and over in my head that points me in one direction is the two Secret Service agents being ordered back into their car filled with other secret service agents and away from the back of Kennedy’s car just before it headed down Dealy Plaza and seeing the one agent shrug his shoulders twice…as if to say…’why the **** do you want me to sit in the car doin' **** when my job is to protect the President.’ I bet you haven’t seen that, have you? Do I hate this Country, No! I love this country. What I hate is lies. What I hate is being manipulated. What I hate is greed…and those things have worked their way into our Government, our Corporations, Our media, our Courts and our thoughts. Even Eisenhower tried to warn us about this **** and Kennedy tried to stop it. Last President that actually had the ***** to stand up to these ****** that own our country now. Too many of us feel we are betraying country, neighbors and friends by questioning what is happening. It is possible to love and question. There’s a great line from a Clint Eastwood movie; 'Don’t **** down my back and tell me it’s rainin.’ Well, they been ******' down our backs ever since they slaughtered the original owners of this prized piece of real estate. Google 'Trail of Tears' and learn some history...cause you won't learn any of it in our wonderful educational system. **** it’s HOT!
I’m nobody…but if I was somebody and this was published in Rolling Stone and one week later they found me dearly departed…the victim of a drug overdose, a fast moving cancer, a karate chop to the neck or a single car accident in the desert…would you question or would you accept…question or accept….question…love ya Dorothy!

leakin through my veins
seepin past my heart
it freezes my soul
can’t get past the cold
air of the dark-
ness
that I breathe in
scream to fight off
but it won’t stay off
i’m betrayed and i’ve frayed to shards of
an old ghost
lost my glow
lost that elected touch.

Oh I want the goodness
but the goodness don’t want me.
or could it be…

“Help me get out, hell is holdin on.”

A melancholic I am becomin'

I wish that you can feel my teardrops on your skin

After a long time I have been keeping in

Now the dams are leakin'

Trying to not make you feel mean

I hope this thing does not begin

When you are talkin'

It makes me feel like there is somethin'

You are the reason I could feel the adrenaline

When you are starin'

You make my heart stopped beatin'

When you are lookin'

I stopped breathin'

Now I am fallin'

Yet I do not want to get drownin'

It will make my head start spinnin'

Something I put on my face,  it is a big grin

And now I am gigglin'

Because I am forgettin'

The reason for all those things.

Dj spinning the wheels of steel
Best lyrics I spill that send thrills
Picture perfect Picasso
Make my own moves like Carlito
Move dinero black don Vito
Keep suckas in check
So stay off my grande bicho
We turn culo into closed
Casket I'm.cold heartless *******
That's my persona
Smoke more yay then T Montana
Took a bite of the forbidden monzana
Tell these fools I don't bang
With panics only frantics
Childish antics make for required carcasses
I'm bark up the wrong trees
Rivalries I love em I'm.above em
Eight levels ahead with mad bread
Hotter than a baker
Brew up the hardest thymes
The lyrical barrister call me Mr
Big stuff Cuz my peace heavy d
Mid weight like hos who can shake
They **** looser than Jello
I'm a president never let me peoples go
Modern day pharaoh with a thorough
Of wisdoms hearts full of clay
Which means I'm cruddy no fears
Show ya real tears like when the shot gun
Enters ya body goin at 200 miles per second
I'm reluctant the only one to ever bless the mic when I recite don't try to fight
Only to meet ya fall and mobster even gall
After me butnnever touch my epitome
In the safe house with my spouse
Tucked in ya blouse
Homes!! Ya minstrel cycle leakin'
Which means ya close to shakin'
Hands with the grim reaper
Puff cabbage make the biggest clouds
Now ya resting lovely open casket
Awaiting to be covered with the shroud!!



actuated lust im dangerous
nobody in space time knows what we're doing
its taboo darling
sweet suckling, unbuckling
she and him and me and her
******* over over
again
forget the stacks and ask no questions
live like ya gone
agonal, in the moment
detached retina against the glass
and lights appear to be on fire
easy comin as she does it
rollin under juicy thunder
the salts of my composure
leakin from my porous structures
leaving from me like a rock
that is my physical elixir
tape it on the imagr
hashtag @ lucifer
on tube hollerin at my girl
i want to trend just like zelda
hit ya with a face melta
blow up on their youtube
for seven seasons off the bat
and when im at the party
all the girlies will sit on my,
eh, it isnt what i live for like tools on MTV
give me sunshine to recondition your condition on BET
i contracted some system disease from way too much TMZ
and my condition is conditioned by youtube conspiracy
i cant relate i am afraid
of what is hiding up my sleeves
i hit the brains
and bust the **** off this run away train called
the radio whenever the news of the day is some ******* **** or some ferrari driving ***** that has her own ****** up slave drama telivision series.
we are so angry
inside computers inside of us inside
a web of statistic dimentia
and **** yourself if you ask
"der, i dunno. what is normal"
you *******.

I'm afraid to look into my rear view mirror
Something's creepin up on me
There's a train wreck comin that I can't see
I'm gonna be squashed!
Like a bug on the wall

Like a bug on the wall
And all my hopes and dreams
Everything I thought I'd be
Will go leakin out of me
Leakin out of me...

I put up curtains
So the sun couldn’t seep in
To hide the fact
That my pain was slowly leakin
Bleeding out
Felt like I had nothin to believe in
Opened up
And got kicked in the teeth when
I only had love
But soon jealousy would sneak in
We tried to front
But our hearts were only seekin
Custody of love in its entirety
And not just on the weekends  

And though we had it
It was laced with irony
Because love will slowly morph
Into a monster that tries to swallow me
And it’s not under the bed
Like they say in the movies
This **** lives in my head
And tries to control me
Like a puppet to its master
I feel strings at my throat
Because my emotions are always faster
Than I can cut the ropes

I’m a hopeless romantic too
In this wicked wild game
Which makes it hard for me to part ways with you
Because I feel this overwhelming shame

Because I’m mostly hopeless
When it comes to love affairs
Let the romantic slip my grip
When I feel like you don’t care

All I want is to know you love me
And to always prove I love you too
Because if you’re my reckless decision
I’ll always continue to choose you

Like a drug
You’re my strange addiction
I’m in constant need of you
A prisoner to loves conviction
Too blind to see the truth
That I’m not that wise
I’m infected by my youth
But I have to survive
And what else can I do?
But fight to stay high
And keep acting aloof

Here’s the proof

I once said ignorance is bliss
Until I learned the hardest lesson
That There’s love in every kiss
You can save the vague confessions
And there it is again
It’s slowly creepin in
The jealousy that takes my words
And slides out from my pen

I suppose thats my fatal flaw
Which adds development to the character
So I should be real evolved
Because I’m full of flaws and failure

Yet I try to give my all
In everything I do
But I always hit a wall
Wandering Far into the blue  
Lost Looking at the stars
To tell me what to do

It’s the only place that ever feels  like home
I Can look up at the sky at night
And not feel so alone
So i wonder if the constellations
Can give me a consolidation
On the humiliation,
of my constant reconciliation
With my own temptation
Think I love living in damnation

I’m never patient

Remember I said emotions rule my world
twisting and turning my thoughts
Watch them twirl
Might give em a whirl
While they swirl
Out of my brain
In the form of rambling words
Maniac is the strain
Roll it up and lick the wrap
Spark it up and smoke that


Expand and deflate
My lungs are irate
Might choke up on the sentiment
And start to suffocate
Cause thoughts can be killers
They’ll cut the brakes too
When your mind is going 100
And there’s nothing you can do
Heading straight into traffic
Your heart will start to race
And you quickly start to panic
Now it’s terror on your face

Hear the glass around you shatter
Feel it digging deep within
Now the thoughts that never mattered
Are carved into your skin

Tear drops turn to Whiskey
They fall so fast these days
Please tell me that you miss me
To help and ease the pain

Go in headfirst
Dig deep into loves curse
Kiss her on the Ferris
once you stop at the top
Look at all the ants called people
Think about your parents
Think about how hard your hearts leakin
Think about how easy your heart is to shake.
Exposed to cold weather
Like if she wants a break-
If she says goodbye
Or finds a man named Jake
Not in khakis, but your love is now a lie
Fake and dead like a skeletal prop.
Life's a cheap movie.
Like Paul Blart's Mall Cop.
And how she's smoothly moving like a segway
But she's most likely improving.
You're all sad and confused now.
"Say cheese" says your Mom not knowing of the abuse you take and it's cloud over all your choices and how you choose to cypher on a cheap website to make rhymes to the type of people that you don't like.
Well that's my life and I'm alright.

im chiseled like prismarine
even my contemporaries gleanin
got me leanin
on my doses
part ya brain waves like moses
separate me from fantasy
you get me bad
down so bad from actors
tv mackin on my lean
its so painful
the madness consume ya
wipe the sweat from ya cheek
ya in my ball pit boy
i got ya by ya underwear
so if ya dare
scream if ya dare
i bare my fanging fetish
make ya scream even louder
and louder little lungs fillin with water
even chumps be leanin over
fetish freakin overloader
keep me creepin
company secrets come a leakin
six score sound beacon
head turnt up for what we seekin.

Whoa oh-, they're tyin' to make her walk on water
Whoa oh-, but they're drownin' on lies
Whoa oh-, it's quite a ride on the teeter totter
Somebody has to be sorely crucified

Don't drink the kool-aid at the end of the day
Thinkin' "nothin's happenin'" will only lead you astray
Stay tuned tommorow for the episode will be surely changed
Bein' on the down low now has been rearranged

Shock value, they have been usin' to brainwash ya
Shock Value, so gaudy it's found at the five and dime
shock value, because by now it doesn't even surprise ya
You come to expect it all the time

Don't expect what you want from all the posterin' fools
Babblin' media, using leakin' conversations as tools
The caustic social dilemmas, cascadin' through our life
Already mountin' fear they are openin'ly giving to our strife

Whoa oh-, She's never gonna be walkin' on water
Whoa oh-, We'll be exposin' your lies
Whoa oh-, no more games is what we're ​after
We just be tired and want to get on with our lives

No end in sight Afghanistan
Still burnin’ flags out in Iran
Chinese steel grip
The Fuhrer’s fist
Still poundin’ on the podium
As Appalachia still succumbs
To ethnic cleansing *****
Peace-keepin’ like a North Korean
Sleepin’ on a Puerto Rican
Leakin’ all the in between and
Still you people think he’s speakin’
For the huddled masses, middle classes?
Cuttin’ taxes
For the battle axes cashin’ in
On truth denial gasses
Maskin’ babies bodies buried in
The Stormy normalcy
And no apology for Johnny
See why Colin took a knee?
Or did you miss the racial murders
Every single ******* day
I guess you missed the homelessness
Or the unequal gender pay
And when the kids take to the streets
You shut them up with adderall
Then seal them up behind a wall
Until their world’s a shopping mall
And then the Columbine each time
A new disorder
Breaks the mind
Until the Nero anti-hero
Comes to muse of its decline

Attention seekin
Troubles peekin
Flooded by thoughts
My mind starts leakin
Before I know it
My mouth starts speakin
going off the deep end
I might as well start drinkin
Then I get a text saying you were dead
I was supposed to see you this weekend...

Food is, or can be, healthful, not healthy, 'cause Rege Cordic's dead
& lowered into a hole to putrefy from a well-bled, brain-rotted head
that decays above a cellar of French wine leakin' from casks of lead

I blow my nose in your direction with only my left-nose section as I
have allergic reactions to your long-haired-*****-cat-hair collection
The United States has many big lottery losers & big lottery winners
who enjoy drunken evenings ******* cousins & eating T.V. dinners
Food is, or can be, healthful, not healthy, 'cause Rege Cordic's dead
& lowered into a hole to putrefy from a well-bled, brain-rotted head
that decays above a cellar of French wine leakin' from casks of lead
into ****** spores of paranormal nodal points pointed up in our bed