MID -ROAD AHEAD, KISS MY XMAS GOOSE OBSTRUCTION
If you have a reason to be alive, your parents have succeeded in the DNA's survival, a trip
It's so complicated, near impossible to put the genie back in the bottle, drippin' VD's drip
As above, so below in the wild East, West, North or South, barber-pole in a cabbage patch
It's a byte or two in the cosmic bum rush, of men and the mice they've raised from scratch.
You'll die if you like it or not, try me, suicide, homicide, matricide, patricide's One-side zeal
It's a rattle and a hum from sapphire stylus on the groove of the platter to the reels, for real
Amazed by the shine of the silver moon and the reflection of the sun's inner insanity game
Without gods, Space is still empty, Nothing ever changes, It is always One, never the same.
I'm Hack, you're a hard-workin' fool who pays 40% taxes & 60% fecal matter consumption
Why don't you shut your pie hole and allow less fruit and sugar crust crumbs, a mortal sin
Step on it, your mother's your God, without her you're an aborted fetus, a dead mind hole
The day you die, mister and ms, you may be happy or sad, you'll be an idiotic fool of a soul.
Look deep into the Void, the Netherworld outside of this planet's stratosphere, original sin
Don't want to admit it, y'all alone, your dead friends and family gone to where you're goin'
Beware of the dog, it's barkin' behind the gate, jumpin' on the fence, mad at your scents
Body's odoriferous perfume disguises the stench of the organic matter composter, God sent.
Mixed metaphors be damned, it's not my bag man, you must be trippin', don't like it, split!
Inside your consciousness, the perception of this Earth's spinning days & nights is fluid scat
Recycled Void gas left over from the Big Bang or whatever happened before I ever loved It
Just lucky to have been here for a squirt of a moment, mom's labor worthy of goddess' fat.
Much more than any of our ancestors would allow their children to exhibit, no how, no way
This anti-herd mentality of breaking bad into duets and trios and launching to the full moon
Smells like teen spirit to me, not to think ahead of the moment, predicting the cow's spoon
When the milk turns chocolate you've got to wonder where the darkness comes into play.
All of the functions of the calculus are predictable if you assume you're usin' your noggin
Head games cannot be done without a head to play within, eyes to see, ears to hear It in
Light from the sky or the bulbs of Edison & Tesla will come & it will go, there is no choice
Among you and within us all is the planetary territory in the Void, burnt bones my boys!
Fictitious consequences of the meaning of my personal ignorance & dearth of blind faith
Making this up out of thin air, I use language because we're all gonna die, I've got no time
To explain that you're an idiot, you know you're not in control of any afterlife of a wraith
Lucky to get into a copacetic state for as many episodes of LIVE broadcasting on a dime.
Game changer when you change the rules without all of boy players knowing of the switch
From chess games to win or lose to battles of antibodies dead & gone upon Earth burnt Fire
Seriously, looking straight up, even if you're stoned or blinded by a rod & a cone defect itch
Document it, forget about recollection ad infinitum, river's running, I'm The Son of a Beach.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Lundi, Aprile XXVth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 9:59 AMPST
{ Drafted in #SilentNight mode while watchin' & listenin' to @KingOfCalifornia on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/pp7yHDzCVXQ & @Satriani }
It's so complicated, near impossible to put the genie back in the bottle, drippin' VD's drip
As above, so below in the wild East, West, North or South, barber-pole in a cabbage patch
It's a byte or two in the cosmic bum rush, of men and the mice they've raised from scratch.
You'll die if you like it or not, try me, suicide, homicide, matricide, patricide's One-side zeal
It's a rattle and a hum from sapphire stylus on the groove of the platter to the reels, for real
Amazed by the shine of the silver moon and the reflection of the sun's inner insanity game
Without gods, Space is still empty, Nothing ever changes, It is always One, never the same.
I'm Hack, you're a hard-workin' fool who pays 40% taxes & 60% fecal matter consumption
Why don't you shut your pie hole and allow less fruit and sugar crust crumbs, a mortal sin
Step on it, your mother's your God, without her you're an aborted fetus, a dead mind hole
The day you die, mister and ms, you may be happy or sad, you'll be an idiotic fool of a soul.
Look deep into the Void, the Netherworld outside of this planet's stratosphere, original sin
Don't want to admit it, y'all alone, your dead friends and family gone to where you're goin'
Beware of the dog, it's barkin' behind the gate, jumpin' on the fence, mad at your scents
Body's odoriferous perfume disguises the stench of the organic matter composter, God sent.
Mixed metaphors be damned, it's not my bag man, you must be trippin', don't like it, split!
Inside your consciousness, the perception of this Earth's spinning days & nights is fluid scat
Recycled Void gas left over from the Big Bang or whatever happened before I ever loved It
Just lucky to have been here for a squirt of a moment, mom's labor worthy of goddess' fat.
Much more than any of our ancestors would allow their children to exhibit, no how, no way
This anti-herd mentality of breaking bad into duets and trios and launching to the full moon
Smells like teen spirit to me, not to think ahead of the moment, predicting the cow's spoon
When the milk turns chocolate you've got to wonder where the darkness comes into play.
All of the functions of the calculus are predictable if you assume you're usin' your noggin
Head games cannot be done without a head to play within, eyes to see, ears to hear It in
Light from the sky or the bulbs of Edison & Tesla will come & it will go, there is no choice
Among you and within us all is the planetary territory in the Void, burnt bones my boys!
Fictitious consequences of the meaning of my personal ignorance & dearth of blind faith
Making this up out of thin air, I use language because we're all gonna die, I've got no time
To explain that you're an idiot, you know you're not in control of any afterlife of a wraith
Lucky to get into a copacetic state for as many episodes of LIVE broadcasting on a dime.
Game changer when you change the rules without all of boy players knowing of the switch
From chess games to win or lose to battles of antibodies dead & gone upon Earth burnt Fire
Seriously, looking straight up, even if you're stoned or blinded by a rod & a cone defect itch
Document it, forget about recollection ad infinitum, river's running, I'm The Son of a Beach.
by
r j j stephan, i
c. Lundi, Aprile XXVth, MMXXII Anno Domini @ 9:59 AMPST
{ Drafted in #SilentNight mode while watchin' & listenin' to @KingOfCalifornia on youTube link @ https://youtu.be/pp7yHDzCVXQ & @Satriani }
F I N I S
W.W.A.R.D.?
#ImNotFollowing
#LostMyHead
#QuestionEverything
