Thursday, August 21, 2008

Over Analysing

She sits there by the Forgan Smith,
Her eyes are sharp and they will wip,
my perception is art deep and close,
I feel that my body is a floating ghost.

Over analysis is used to make sense of life,
I can't accept your reaction as right,
Quarreling birds above me are fueled with life,
Their energy smells like cheap cough medicine.

Pretentious pricks are pink like pansies,
A flip of the hair that you wear on your head,
A turkey pecks at human waste abused and dead,
Are those umbrellas pink or purple?

Communication has become useless and wasteful,
carbon is expelled from your blood cells,
Social circles always a circle unbroken and strong,
I can see truth that you will become a killer.

Do I need life is my connectivity strong,
Was I born to be this hobo bum,
I'm fucking insane with relational insanity,
I don't need drugs to get outside reality.

I feel so far out through over-analysis,
I am now a threat to progressive pretending,
This perception is back its back again,
The energex is fighting us away,

Lock me up I will not live another day...

1 comment:

Len said...

The young hobo went away
Out for a run
Chasing the sun
Within reality

Until he understood the concept of relativity
And slowly strolled back
With the holes in his shoes
And his pack on his back
To never enter reality

Again. Again.

Finding relativity
Unleashing his creativity
Cause reality
Is what they saw on TV

And so he tried to make them see.
Outside reality
Trying to find true freedom

Love, liberty.