i've been down this corridor - before you enter you have to bring back the creator of winter damn, too late i'm spoiled, i need the napalm i got it, i shot it in my left sector, blew up the timing device on the reactor. time shifted i had to remold the floor the foundation for creation - mate's blend the pleasure dome into another roam - a walk stalked nightly by the ogre that's rarely sober. but there's no tracin i see the place in the flow. i'm beyond dawn, no i'm not in the lawn under pawns - don't rest, never possessed stagnate magnets. i never pulled slits lips wit no braille skilled eyes - balls through eyesockets. i'm currently current currents of electricity; they can't get wit me invisible to the retina half - way reality part limbo. a nervous laugh while ya climbin through windows, never spin ho's on merry-go-rounds, be the ground level for ghouls, schools of fish, victims on a hit list me like geronimo on a pratt - tackle patt tacklin patterns addin in seasonings, flavor. no false teeth for beef, catapulting fingers to light switches so you can see the real, i feel the tension my sight twitches - i'm bent.
second scene: i'm the star in a step show around corners, the coroner's office; where my rep grows. i'm on some sort of drug like the president, it's evident that i'm noid, a little bit of pizza - the riddle gets deeper. i'm lookin for outs n ins, stolen isotonas, the gloves, the bout begins three jabs on a transport it's a sport for me to take another life on landing, branding wit a prattle prod designed by god. it's my job to resign frauds, the odd is against you got a degree in me, so i know that i flow, credentials are essential - it's blasphemy the type of shit they be askin me. i don't feel the vibe, abstract art the veal doesn't heal this deprived stomach from a plummet. swinging on a duet with the bullet. i never pull out for suspense - i'm on a bent mission.
jack cousteau couldn't take it no deeper - i'm a resident in davey jones micro-locker holds the phone, foamin at the mouth: mad dog, a taste, never had hog i'm droppin the scrooge, makin fools hit the log - axe it. i seen it beneath where the cowards hope trembled sleeper see if you can find the lost treasure through measures in bars - i'm bent.
Ptsi Şub. 09, 2009 10:13 pm