69 RED LIGHTS FOR A HOMER STUD, A HILLBILLY DELUXE #WTFIITY
Whenever the dawn brings the enlightenment of the ignorance, it's alright to be cock-blocked
It ain't my fault the others didn't have an intelligencia mother & father who knew, son oh son
The Truth of the centuries before their birth was all logged in to the bibliotheque, folks rocked
World from baby bottles & potty training false flags is the way it is, logic's reason for treason.
Into the immaterial fog of war & material fantasy of the imagination, I go for a century or less
Nobody knows & most don't care to know that life for every living thing is transitory, confess
Black & White Russians punch drunk one after another, expresso shots & Vodka, Roll me One
In the flower beds of stone dead in the garden of Eden, apple tree's byte logos, fake Wisdom.
Freedom or not, an illusion or reality, don't shoot the messenger, must have eyes' wide slant
Psychobabble or clear & conclusive without a shadow of doubt, either way, you're gonna sin
Divine definition of disobedience to commands of the boss, the ruler, the captain, my captain
Format for the refutation of the maniacal is, looking into the mirror in the dark, I just can't!
Scared to be in the dark, alone with out my teddy bear that's not alive yet gets privilege, milk
No hind teats for the first to come and the first to be served, under a spell to be carbonic silk
Apes in mummified form turned to the planet's cosmic dust, as above so below, same ol' song
It goes a little somethin' like this... I got the dough some young guns to smoke/hit God's bong.
Cats with cool, blown horns' infinitesimal holes, full of bones & skin, strung-out on deadwood
Superior power fading away a favorite son's molecular structure of DNA, extinction's all good
Broken down to the absolute lowest denominator, point is .969333 Russian/USSR vodka high
All you can do is think about it CATS, Time's point in Space is moot, so get drunk, stomp & fly!
Polish off the oxidation from the surface and the platinum reflection of light would blind us
We'll never know what happens after we die, just like those who've already lived as a 7th son
Left over some confirmation before the depravation but that wasn't enough, t'was a big fuss
Argued over spilt milk, blood rashes on asphalt, BBQ'd pigs with hotdogs, all @69, it is done!
by
r j j stephan, i #WTFIITY
c. Vendredi, March Fourth, XXMMII @ 111 PMPST
{ Drafted gettin' full of #Columbian & #CuervoGold & listenin' to @SteelyDan #Gaucho on link @ https://youtu.be/cvg5mbM6FGs & @Mary_Wells loop #MyGuy link @ https://youtu.be/QZSPtEv6R7g & @Kid_Rock #AlaPhqnBama @ https://youtu.be/Lib5Tk_giW4 }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
