Write and
Write and
Write and
Write.
With your pencil
Be the knight.

you are a lab rat,
dancing in their labs,
through you they *** to conclusions.

You turn them from ***** to holy,
Every morning they turn saint.

It's sad how you have turned a naked god,
Cleaning possessed men.


Immoral lab experiments
Men are tresh.

sometimes I think
there might not be a tomorrow
so my time can't be wasted in any established institution.

whoops, there I go, wasting.  
whoops, there goes the future.

band together,weird brothers.

a half assed attempt from one of us equates to a hundred ten percent from one of the others.
but what difference would it make?
there's like, a hundred million of them &
only one of me.

we're already snuffed out by the numbers.

so we throw ourselves off track; it's some what hypocritical - but hey -
at least we're following our hearts
or whatever *****
we think is the most vital.

simple existence is the biggest shame.
for the love of god.
you'll rot if you stay for the spindle,
drilling yer spiel & teething on the tiers, stagnating in the famous cesspools of shalott.
settle in, ferment to liquidity.

Imma just watch yall
waiting for the day
your stocking feet curl up &
die beneath the mortgage,
leaving the zirconia slippers
of a dream seeing red.

be clean
be neat
be nice
be right
be alive
& smile
but not too much.

that's the tell to tell em
something's up,
the specimen are not disrupted
or adapting to challenge
of being ******
with these conditions.
they appear to be happy.


too happy.


something's missing.

Slow minds,
And
Hungry times.
Fire ignites a
Luscious green
kind of
magic.
Euphoria inhaled,
And
Stoners prevails
For we have
The upper hand
Held to our mouths
With the other
Not too far.
Lighter in hand
You are the
Magic man