I have a dream
That one day the universe will be split open at the seems
Revealing the undergarments between the margins
Split apart from the heart due to a wal-mart bargain
Bought for thirteen dollars by scholars who became ballers
Split in two like a board kicked by a master of kung-fu
I've sung a few too many songs about the same old clout
So after this, like the freedom in the kingdom; I'm done too, and out.
Out of this world, out of money, out of time
Out the spout dropping fast, on the route to cloud nine
No aloud to be loud, or be proud of me and mine
Middle of five stuck straight up,
More than just spores, w****s, and fake f***s in makeup who make bucks
Don't drink and type
Inebriate, can't find the words to articulate
Speculate in the late hours of the timeless moments that fate devours
I separate guard towers from barbed flowers, but you don't
The food won't satisfy the thunder's hunger
Seven days, less than twenty-five hours of slumber
Part-time, pleasant triptamine past-time
Lasts half as long as the prison camp, punch clock, walk sign
You have permission to beat me into submission
And make the decision that my double vision, now...
Is just a cluster f**k behind my trouble ridden brow
99 pot-holes in the street beneath my feet
One problem, a lost cause who can't find his frosty wheat
(Hypothetically in need of another beer, theoretically in need of a bed to rest my head, and an opposite chromosome component to share the despair of a lonely drunken moment)
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