YO-YO WAS A COLD ONE BUT, HELL MAN, SHE SAID SHE WAS UGLY BAD, NO GOOD
In perfect syncopated motion, First Cause to the final Black Hole of sweat, your departed bones
All in a nice pile where the living felt you'd cause no more harm to your friends and folks' in hell
On the wake nights, used to be 3 but now, it's 2 and they're all stiffs dyin' to get in, it's a ritual
Thirst and hunger go far, far away when it's curtains for you and me, needs and wants all cancel.
High and dry like it was always supposed to be like this, where is that written and by whom, eh
About the only thing you can do for the sake of keeping this diatribe in the ebb and neap flows
River running backwards to where it came from & then some, movin' the good, comin' to blows
Defiance livin' in a twelve pack I got sittin' on the shelf, damn babe this has to be a tornado eye.
Systematic racism is the evolutionary tool that homo sapiens used to dominate the sub species
After that function of being the greatest tool of mankind, you want to revoke it's use to kiddies
A revolution can be smelled on high when a Declaration cancelled We The People of us & them
In a vortex of atomic waste, we find ourselves within, call it a spirit or a soul, either/or l'haim!
As if the hairless and helpless from infancy to adulthood is any kind of a survival tool, as if is right
Reason being, the homo sapiens were not evolved here on Earth, implant of another star's light
Infinite unfathomable, silent & still, yet someone other than YOU's in charge of the bells that toll
It's all a matter of which way is up from the North Pole, which way is down from the South hole.
Many have claimed that nobody's perfect, from their imperfect judgement of the showdown right
In reality, somebody is perfect or else death claims the fake identity, health care worker hindsight
Prejudice when I inject asp venom of a talking radio, prejudice vs. masculinity, immuned A-teams
Menudo soup in cosmic dust left over from Big Bangs of a Bong & the headlights are highbeams.
Twitching and knee jerking my way up to the look on your face when you realize that you're out
Of this place in Space that you've become accustom to bending to your knees and kissing a boot
It's all the many isolated draft dodgers can handle, bums on the corner begging for a snow drift
For a price more or less than everything you have in your possession, counted 1 red stone to lift.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. March 7th, 2021 Anno Domini @ 12:01 AMPST
{ Jammed to @Nazareth #HairOfTheDog & #HITS @https://youtu.be/x-Bg0jjJhgQ }
W.W.A.R.D.?
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