Verse 1

Can you say you’re right for it?

What you dream at night dog?

You live a cream for life, huh?

What you think gave you the right, hoss?

Travel through a light fog, beyond the bite saw

infections off kilter, jig in the straw

and a chicken in every pot, if you like it or not

You sure you want to push those boundaries?

Can you really describe the sights sounding?

Colluding and conniving, brutalized and despised then

crucially divided, in my noodle vibrance confounding

lounging in the get grasp, habitat, munching grass

when they bric-a-brac divide, scatter back guide’s past

is today a night mare, and you sugar coat it ask

is it one more turn for the worse, or a more productive path?

And the life and lust entrapped

with a fluxing math, has me saying “Fuck if I’m not doing that”.

Unscrewing caps of lucid cats til truth’s in grasp, but some bruised in path

Hook

It’s that life you live,

you hafta watch your bid

to put it out, you gotta take it in

batton the hatches, button your lip

this ship is nothing but set to sink, write, right.

Verse 2

You shoveling sensory input by the spoonful, well is ya?

Still keep the barriers up to protect the purity, well is ya?

You see past their judgement, you hear that it’s the buzzings of nothing and insecurities

You down to give those chances?

Break those hearts, live through those glasses?

Cross those moats, toss elope, forgot my coat

Now I’m lost from home, on an awkward road

But I snear, “It makes an awesome poem”

Chart the doings, the goings on, of life, the business of

Today, everyday, rush ahead scholar of the self knowing

Still gonna be in need of hand help holding

It’s always in the order, land jet, phone rings

Groaning, I’ve grown some things, emboldening the cold hinge

To squeak, to write, to empower the people to speak

the flock of sheep and to own his each

If there is utopia to build then there’s an equal to keep


Hook

It’s that life you live,

you hafta watch your bid

to put it out, you gotta take it in

batton the hatches, button your lip

this ship is nothing but set to sink, write, right.



Verse 3

Wash my hands like a pilot

I’m only here to give you your will, try it

Life seems wait, emerge, try, apply, sit

wait, reject, reject, reject and finally fit

So what philosophy and style you on?

Mine’s post apocolypitc meets Walden Pond

Head to head, better dead, feather bed, meant to be slept on

So when you wake, I’m ahead of my time, preaching at the next dawn

Could you be less far gone? So far, so good

So grandiose, so hood, so speak to me your subtle lies

it let’s me rep the meek in lines, our speech is in time

but I’m not the only one on the showboat who is up to no good

This is why I know you could not, do it even if you think you should

rot the spots, plot escape, a great poet most men do not make

Scotts great, locked frame, spock change, from a lot of pain now your

time’s clocked on the range