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...
Skateboarding - It took a burst of excitement to throw me on to my skateboard again, It gradually built up over time and I finally snapped and assembled my trucks to my boa...
9 years ago