I write my wrongs in all the right songs.
I take chords and string up ideas on my life's
I beat the system with the instruments of my wit
So when its time to face the music my feet will
groove the best.
16 bars is always all I see.
A prison gate behind which sustains a hungry
My drums snare at the competition as I kick
down their doors.
They fear my drum rolls so they bass all over the
Violins violently let the vile in as my harps grin
strums in sin on its sharp strings.
My Cello's screams screech hello and the
mellow streams stream fellows in.
My keyboard feeds raw green gore for all fiends
in large keys as beats swing like see-saw.
There's much to note as notes play racist black
and white games
and jokes as the blacks pitch the throats of the
white keys provoked.
High hats and symbols. Hear them clash.
Brown eyes and dimples, simple people's hopes
poked and exposed with no thimbles.
Our brains have been crippled.
The Blood rushes to our feet and we move in
discord without reason
be it to the right tempo and percussions or for
flight and threats of persecution.
The Depth of reason is vacant with spots as the
shallowness is done with recruitments.
We think its okay to stop thinking.
We act as though each act or show is just as
blunt and plain as snow.
No textures, low measure. No expectations and
We give power to Governments who fail to
govern us with governance
but rather covenants of schemes and other
stunts innate of greed and arrogance
solely proclaimed to deny the humble man an
We go to church and lurch around the
proceedings as we fail to prevail in religion
its teachings and the things we claim to believe
in. Why are we still breathing?
I feel I'm off course, of course. Everything else is
a false source of creation.
Inspiration has reduce to a conscious stale state
Searching for a reason; a meaning to not
overdose on unprescribed medication.
.....But I'm back on track. Killing beats.
The words punctuate themselves and the
evidence shelves itself
the wealth to which skill delves leaves art as
short as the feet of elves.
Music's melodies mellow me to meek degrees
that decree to me
to be all my talents require of me.
My mind is in a constant state of oscillation,
around our society and the problems we're
This situation often draws me to begin hating,
but i'm just being patient.
Not too long now before the apocalypse'
All i have is time and rhymes to ascend through
And I pray I do this with a Sound Mind....