WHEN ALL HELLA FIRE BROKE LOOSE, ALL THAT WAS LEFT WAS PETRIFIED GOLD
People get locked in tight when schools over, K-12 or beyond to the pHd for Molochi's minions
They pull tricks on all the best of us, alien spirits invisible to the human genome, unconscious It
Lost and found in the dreams during sleep and watching the Real turn to the Fake before a chit
Flickin' the lint off of my sweater and swattin' flys on the screen door, I used to care who wins.
I don't worry about it while I drink me champagne and smoke the Bermuda Triangle's bud-buddies
From the first day the eyes were opened to the solar light, we merged with the presence of blow
Who I am you won't know 'til your final heartbeats, you may not believe it but life's gonna cease
Function of some equations are useful and some are harbingers of Nothing at all, equality's zero.
Wild as the day I was born, crying about the situational change, it's First caused, we're the effect
Moving the dreary mountain back into the deep, blue sea so that getting uptight is doom, a seize
Nothing left when it's all over, you know what it's like to lose a game, take a CoVid19 shot wreck
Asymptomatic allergies to life and death, who knew that a virus could kill the man & the species?
Gone before it was a time to go to a wake and a funeral for a stuffed brother's sister, I'm all gone
Nothing left before or after my trip around this unwelcome and uncaused system of the damned
We know nothing, thinkin' that's enough for the inquiry, got to get some sleep & forget it, son
Awake, woke, still in a deep somnambolistic termination of a trip, a mind can't stand to be dead.
Wheelin' my girls down the street in my station wagon, '60 Chevy turquoise blue, Mother of Fawk
On and off for the next 60 years up until 2020, I drove many & paid off some out of the Joints
Things really have changed since back in the day when the words of teenagers were moot points
Today and tomorrow, they are no longer educated in the warehouses of the public square folk.
Lyin' with the dogs in the junkyard is not a problem, since I'm in charge of all the junk, lost jazz
Is it beer thirty yet? I walked over 40 miles on the backroads in the Bayou and came back too
Gator country is not friendly not to mention Cajun cuisine that sideburns the toes with pizzazz
Hurting deep down in wee bones, in the lead, there's golden cramps for a tramps, boxcar's flu.
by
r j j stephan, i { A 2 For 1 de jour }
c. Samedhi, April 3rd, 2021 A.D. @ 6:66 PMPST
{ Locked in tight to @BobDylan #ThingsHaveChanged @WonderBoys soudtrack, @CurtisHanson Academy Award #BestSongfromAMotionPicture kn 2001! Link @ https://youtu.be/L9EKqQWPjyo }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
People get locked in tight when schools over, K-12 or beyond to the pHd for Molochi's minions
They pull tricks on all the best of us, alien spirits invisible to the human genome, unconscious It
Lost and found in the dreams during sleep and watching the Real turn to the Fake before a chit
Flickin' the lint off of my sweater and swattin' flys on the screen door, I used to care who wins.
I don't worry about it while I drink me champagne and smoke the Bermuda Triangle's bud-buddies
From the first day the eyes were opened to the solar light, we merged with the presence of blow
Who I am you won't know 'til your final heartbeats, you may not believe it but life's gonna cease
Function of some equations are useful and some are harbingers of Nothing at all, equality's zero.
Wild as the day I was born, crying about the situational change, it's First caused, we're the effect
Moving the dreary mountain back into the deep, blue sea so that getting uptight is doom, a seize
Nothing left when it's all over, you know what it's like to lose a game, take a CoVid19 shot wreck
Asymptomatic allergies to life and death, who knew that a virus could kill the man & the species?
Gone before it was a time to go to a wake and a funeral for a stuffed brother's sister, I'm all gone
Nothing left before or after my trip around this unwelcome and uncaused system of the damned
We know nothing, thinkin' that's enough for the inquiry, got to get some sleep & forget it, son
Awake, woke, still in a deep somnambolistic termination of a trip, a mind can't stand to be dead.
Wheelin' my girls down the street in my station wagon, '60 Chevy turquoise blue, Mother of Fawk
On and off for the next 60 years up until 2020, I drove many & paid off some out of the Joints
Things really have changed since back in the day when the words of teenagers were moot points
Today and tomorrow, they are no longer educated in the warehouses of the public square folk.
Lyin' with the dogs in the junkyard is not a problem, since I'm in charge of all the junk, lost jazz
Is it beer thirty yet? I walked over 40 miles on the backroads in the Bayou and came back too
Gator country is not friendly not to mention Cajun cuisine that sideburns the toes with pizzazz
Hurting deep down in wee bones, in the lead, there's golden cramps for a tramps, boxcar's flu.
by
r j j stephan, i { A 2 For 1 de jour }
c. Samedhi, April 3rd, 2021 A.D. @ 6:66 PMPST
{ Locked in tight to @BobDylan #ThingsHaveChanged @WonderBoys soudtrack, @CurtisHanson Academy Award #BestSongfromAMotionPicture kn 2001! Link @ https://youtu.be/L9EKqQWPjyo }
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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