The coast is clear but clearly youve coasted
Haunted by your future but we both know who the ghost is
I don't know what you're going through, other the motions/
I feel my ship already sailed
Sunk
Swallowed by the ocean
I wanna be naive, disregard the debris
Rusty nails don't bite those that walk cautiously.
Alter E-
Go for broke
On the gimmick where I fit in
Get in the box
Where everyone is different
Try not to crop copy paste the same image
The 10 thousandth edition of Christ but mines exquisite
Isn't this what you were built for/ the independent pilgrimage
The dust covered disappointment of being genuine
Chalk it up as the populace lacks common sense and discipline
Or embrace the fact that your vision simply isn't interesting
It's that feeling you'd kill for
It's that feeling you'd kill for
It's that feeling you'd kill for
It's that feeling that kills
16 bit brain, with a primal rage,
killer instinct, and a snipers aim
so stuck on the past can’t act my age
get with the times, get your clock out my face
modern day Mark Twain with a little bit of Vonnegut
contain the bitter cynic, focus on the positive
without sellin’ out for your summer time barbeque
maybe it’s not for you, what would Hunter S. Thompson do?
what would you do? I double dare you try
to muster the guts to put it all on the line
brains on display, heart , soul, body, and mind
ripped from your clutches restructured & redesigned
should I sacrifice vision just to get you to listen?
steal the wind from our lungs for a couple page visits
digi-age pay to play for some robot subscribers
kickin’ subpar bars in a subsidized cypher (NO THANKS)
this is a toast to my ever fading youth
and the mirrors of an art form i pay homage to
feel like ive always been a bit beyond my years
on the flip side, wise sounds old school
old soul in these gumshoes
searching for a lane to make noise in and run through
make fans, lose friends
prepare for the must do's
long as I'm alive fuck time it aint an issue
timing is syncing beautiful miscues
road less traveled, pocketful of continues
less Machiavelli, a little more machete
a little more cliche, life is a bitch and we’re late tell that ho to be ready
incarcerated canary
free like broken guitar strings
self esteem can’t be quarantined, orbit my distorted screams
alive when you’re not around, lily livered figurine
the scene is bigger than your litter box, you’re not a novelty
my inner oddity could make a sentinel look model t
deposit positivity or pigeonhole your prophecy
it aint rocket science signing off still a giant
jet setter on assignment, we’re all here improvising so...
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