PROVE ME WRONG, SHOUT OUT SILENTLY
LET
US PLAY
Come over to my place in Space and you can see the variable unknown, my blood
Forensic evidence that you were born and raised on Earth in a radical hippy mind
Clobbered upside of the head when you were only 33 years old, younger than god
Your god, my god, our god, no god matters very little to the revolution of the Sign.
Pump your air into your bag of empty words that mean something nobody knows
Pick your face over your skull and you’ll be alive for a while, then Earth just blows
Into an empty space between me, you and the stars in Outerspace, dollar tree chit
Hard liquor and soft drunks’ drinks make this world wobble on it’s epileptic fit bit.
Monday, a name for a repeating spin on the ecliptic, see Earth from empty Space
Exist then decease, desist from the immortality conceptual analysis, God’s race
To live being good and avoiding evil, utopian apes with less hair than Cavemen
Mountain lion running in your yard, inside of your 8 foot fence, cougar is all In.
Be eating you after the kill of your circulating broken heart, I ate the whole hole
A taste of nasty stench shoos them away but it’s too late for your invisible soul
So, you got no angel’s wings and no hot pitchfork for a journey to burnt Hades
Downhill, uphill, above & below a hot core, lost in Space & Time’s Purple haze.
Seven, eleven or any other Prime Number have every convenience we need
Buy it all, use plastic, rectangular magnetic strip punch cards, I’m In & Out
Polls show other polls asking ignorant and imbecilic notions of dead feed
It has to be dead, plant or animal for humanity to survive the extinction shot.
Cleaned, skewered, BBQ’d over the burning logs of dead trees, dead dinner
Stayin’ alive gotta eat the dead scat, blind faith past the nipples and bottles
Got bread, got meat, got seasonings for the dead life, easier to swallow her
Mother Earth provided, you & I recycled all dead until our death, then caput.
Ending at The End, then there’s just a pot pipe left for your gramma, puff it
She’s high as a kite, like the one you flew into the wind over the empty pit
As above, so it is below, unconscious as dead star dirt in orbit, world whirl
You came here innocently, accept your guilty pleasure, come on baby girl.
Episode between the Void & a hard place is right here, right-twisted shout
Your ma & papa came to bring you the gift of breathing gas & dopamine out
On to move an unmoved mover you must first be the One, then #Skeeeert it
What in the fictional trap is the bait? Air supply, dead food & the dead scat.
Gone too soon or not soon enough, either way it’s hard to gauge come & go
Here today & gone tomorrow, yesterday without recall, no memory of the show
Gone to the far end of the far side and it’s the only humorous thing is, The End
As if you were taught that you were immortal to avoid the fear of death’s Zen.
Forensic evidence that you were born and raised on Earth in a radical hippy mind
Clobbered upside of the head when you were only 33 years old, younger than god
Your god, my god, our god, no god matters very little to the revolution of the Sign.
Pump your air into your bag of empty words that mean something nobody knows
Pick your face over your skull and you’ll be alive for a while, then Earth just blows
Into an empty space between me, you and the stars in Outerspace, dollar tree chit
Hard liquor and soft drunks’ drinks make this world wobble on it’s epileptic fit bit.
Monday, a name for a repeating spin on the ecliptic, see Earth from empty Space
Exist then decease, desist from the immortality conceptual analysis, God’s race
To live being good and avoiding evil, utopian apes with less hair than Cavemen
Mountain lion running in your yard, inside of your 8 foot fence, cougar is all In.
Be eating you after the kill of your circulating broken heart, I ate the whole hole
A taste of nasty stench shoos them away but it’s too late for your invisible soul
So, you got no angel’s wings and no hot pitchfork for a journey to burnt Hades
Downhill, uphill, above & below a hot core, lost in Space & Time’s Purple haze.
Seven, eleven or any other Prime Number have every convenience we need
Buy it all, use plastic, rectangular magnetic strip punch cards, I’m In & Out
Polls show other polls asking ignorant and imbecilic notions of dead feed
It has to be dead, plant or animal for humanity to survive the extinction shot.
Cleaned, skewered, BBQ’d over the burning logs of dead trees, dead dinner
Stayin’ alive gotta eat the dead scat, blind faith past the nipples and bottles
Got bread, got meat, got seasonings for the dead life, easier to swallow her
Mother Earth provided, you & I recycled all dead until our death, then caput.
Ending at The End, then there’s just a pot pipe left for your gramma, puff it
She’s high as a kite, like the one you flew into the wind over the empty pit
As above, so it is below, unconscious as dead star dirt in orbit, world whirl
You came here innocently, accept your guilty pleasure, come on baby girl.
Episode between the Void & a hard place is right here, right-twisted shout
Your ma & papa came to bring you the gift of breathing gas & dopamine out
On to move an unmoved mover you must first be the One, then #Skeeeert it
What in the fictional trap is the bait? Air supply, dead food & the dead scat.
Gone too soon or not soon enough, either way it’s hard to gauge come & go
Here today & gone tomorrow, yesterday without recall, no memory of the show
Gone to the far end of the far side and it’s the only humorous thing is, The End
As if you were taught that you were immortal to avoid the fear of death’s Zen.
by
r j j stephan, i
r j j stephan, i
c. Mardi, March XXVIth MMXXIV Anno Domini @911AMPST
( Absurdity created from the Void this AM while jammin’ to @Armstrong_GettyRadio on @kste650AM }
