It took a long time... for me to figure out... what works for me and doesn't,
I was running at the mouth. Guzzling poisons when I wasn't snorting fear and doubt.
Supporting my enemy mindlessly was what I was about.
I was grinding endlessly just to spend it on Guinness stout.
My dependency on death and greed surely didn't make me proud.
When living inside of a cloud is just as bad as a bubble or box.
How did I get so deep in a stoner hippy paradox?!
But I'll creep through the lyrics to escape from Pandora's box, Close it up with a lock and Hide the key inside my sock, make my way on down the block, just to jump off of the dock. I'll swim to an island to continue my career as a warlock.

Continuously keep climbing and falling until my sense of time stops, all of the walls drop off of my mind and I find god as the bottom, center, and top of an infinite pattern, simulation structured game crop.
The unity of all existence.
Lord Love!

Sentenced to sensory, incarnations in warm blood.
I said I'll be spending this century sending signals through my songs.
The splendor of simplicity most would find through the one. I find when spitting this complexity in the city until i'm done
It's how I honor it, you, myself and have fun in a non-harmful manner so One All, One Come.
Let's get this celebration popping in a positive direction, unplugging each nation from it's new world connection infection. Suspecting collections of slave masters have used deception. Twisting stories of resurrection to fuck with the heads of their lab rat victims.
Stuck us in a system where we build our own prison and most don't even know that their savior lives within them!
It keeps spinning as they listen to the programmed radio venom, I send 'em all the love but can't associate with it.
That's why you'll find me underground, minding my own business.
This mystical misfit knows what's up and it ain't none of that shit!

Sent to the center to shed layers that aren't love, Said I'm a sensitive sayer of poetry and rhythm.
Serenade guards, warden to get out of this prison.
Back to my garden fuck your division dance, making the planet harden in a trance.
Pardon my french, but please suck my baguette!
This character's main concern is getting out of debt!
Papa always said, you cannot fill another's cup until you're own pitcher is full kid, don't be foolish!