Some feel like drowning (the beheading Mantis)
We aspire, leave, walk, and run,
And yet, some feel like drowning.
Return an assumed impossibility .
Road runs asunder under our feet,
The devil's beneath in synchronicity,
Earth rotates and yet we stand,
While
Babies become masters of chess.
While incompleteness is all around.
Nude feet feeling the grasshopper at dew,
Two seemingly legs still standing…
Dancing with an allegro cadence,
Laughing suddenly among people
Running imperturbable to their jobs
In concentrated cadence, tidy appearance.
Nothing returns to face mr long face,
Time indefatigable progression,
Which is subjective for a mortal
Who feeds on moments long past,
And build, shape your individuality,
Admonished aesthetics empty of me.
So laughable your attempts, so fable,
As a polygon and 4 picks, not a table.
Since I came to this world of inevitable demise
I understand how to despise the ripper
Like I turn my back to any stripper.
And there is nothing of complex
Nor formulas, nor inspiration
Not the progress of the Nation
Or simple Awolination.
This is all and all is dream which
Is the witches plan to our sin,
That plain of greed I have refused,
That rattlesnake I've always been,
Serpent leaving marks in the sand
Until the sand storm's demand.
Signs of mutiny on the Bounty of fear,
Captain, o captain, my dearest dear.
And yet, some feel like drowning.
Return an assumed impossibility .
Road runs asunder under our feet,
The devil's beneath in synchronicity,
Earth rotates and yet we stand,
While
Babies become masters of chess.
While incompleteness is all around.
Nude feet feeling the grasshopper at dew,
Two seemingly legs still standing…
Dancing with an allegro cadence,
Laughing suddenly among people
Running imperturbable to their jobs
In concentrated cadence, tidy appearance.
Nothing returns to face mr long face,
Time indefatigable progression,
Which is subjective for a mortal
Who feeds on moments long past,
And build, shape your individuality,
Admonished aesthetics empty of me.
So laughable your attempts, so fable,
As a polygon and 4 picks, not a table.
Since I came to this world of inevitable demise
I understand how to despise the ripper
Like I turn my back to any stripper.
And there is nothing of complex
Nor formulas, nor inspiration
Not the progress of the Nation
Or simple Awolination.
This is all and all is dream which
Is the witches plan to our sin,
That plain of greed I have refused,
That rattlesnake I've always been,
Serpent leaving marks in the sand
Until the sand storm's demand.
Signs of mutiny on the Bounty of fear,
Captain, o captain, my dearest dear.
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