I’LL JUST HANG AROUND
Now and then, there comes a time to repeat the original pain in the cervical bone, need a hit
Seniors & Juniors came after the Freshmen & Sophomores like there was no tomorrow for chit
No surprise, bye & bye, revelation at the end of New & Old testaments, Greek or Sanskrit Live
Saga is set in the Wild, Wild West before Law & Order was assumed by brave men against evil.
Harm comes to the weakest among us and annihilates the strongest who survive fixed trials
Tribulation & jubilation alternate like the seasons, depending on the wobbling rotation of hills
Your chops are the words you use to persuade the unpersuadable blind faith mongers of pills
They know not what they do has any effect other than their smell & taste of the high piles.
Come over to the light side where even the dead heads can see the brightness of the acid trip
Flashing back & checking out before the trip’s termination, you smile & keep a stiff upper lip
Mighty mice and skinless hotdogs used to be in charge, they’ve failed & resist the success chit
Poor people caused by Demoncrats & Repubicans because they need the target of bull’s S#it.
Y’all come on over to the sideline & listen to my coaching tip, the next play you’ll tie the game
Droppin’ dead beautiful, everyone knows what that appears to be, even blind folks, the same
It’s a feeling, a touch, a scent of the thing itself while living and covered in scents of whiskey
Honey or not, I’ll take a shot or two, I salute all my dead friends & relatives, bottoms up!
A song, long or short about the way it is for me & you from now until the last gasp of America
Word for word, repeat ad infinitum, it’s a pleasing thing to be thankful for the benefit of Sins
Secret kept close to the vest, young strugglers to survive, sheltered, to be or not to be as blasé
As above since the Big Bang, so below it still is & always will be a Singularity, y’all gods, I see!
Dots and dashes between sounds and sights unable to recollect after death, yet pre-life injects
Into the soul, the spiritual nature of the thing grown from a microscopic byte of love and sex
All in the game, run the rules through the fine lines and they disappear, everyone’s free for all
Liberty & servitude look like the same thing, stuck in sticky Space, just ‘cause you got bawled.
Know this well or not at all, in a realm of retro-funk, there are pioneers and veterans of fights
All Time and Space on the head of a straight pin is a bit better than on the head of a needle tit
Side by side, atop or beneath the load of mass you & I carry on balance, it’s a balance of lights
Critical mass appears at will at the moment of every corpse’s rigor mortis, Friday night fights.
Higher than the underground ever wanted to be, below it all, undercover mothers of godsons
Knowledge & wisdom created outta nowhere with nothing to disprove but invalid conclusions
Beginning with unprovable assumptions and leading to the inevitable ends of the final ends
As one cannot imagine, it’s lonely at one being all alone forever, hence, God made The Man.
It’s inside of the Golden Earrings I listened to in an infinite loop back in 1974, in a high #SKOR
Wet hands on the wheel, got the power dust in my skivvies thanks to the houseboy’s tipper
I left him nothing & got early out of his realm; my reward was an itch physohex couldn’t cure
Karma for 50 years plus how many ever I extend it to, that ROC Muther got radar love Whore.
r j j stephan, i
c. March 11th 2025 AD @ 222 PMPST
W.W.A.R.D.?
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