sundog

crack pours from our pores spilling over and forth in buckets galore and what is more there are spores spotting the membranes in my intake tunnels to my nose no i do not want you digitally remastered half ass version of something perfect i cant stand to imagine you could make bach better and im bitter cause my back hurts and i have no herb to make it better so now stranded i can focus on your crooked eyebrows and somehow concoct a conspiracy that in someway would revolve around ecstacy how it just melts away these kids in a useless puddle while they struggle while im sittin here trippin on how obvious shit is do they think we are that stupid that we'd sit glued to their brainwashing machines now its hard for me to concieve some weasle sneaking up on me somehow thinking this ride is easy this quest for divine interest its no games and surely not a contest against me ive been in tuned since the begginning of my journey and i've studied this life's story and society's push toward merriment and levity scares me mindless enchantment never ending battle to be comfortable while tending to some one elses labor. i for one do not favor being miserable in fact i do not see the point of disaster at all if not only to control what man has planned and fucked along the way why do i care why do i want to change the world why should i save your soul go and die i'll work on saving my own