Wow the sun
heat strokes my moon
my father is Porn
my legs are tied
skateboards in captivity confined
these old vans are outworn
and leading down the way
to where's the shop
in witch i bought a map to self decay
all these dogs are left astray
in the fields of irritable anxiety
and not confusing disarray
what a miserable car
the sides are all glazed in
the ashes of a politician
filling his pockets with gore
and a slight bore at the end of a
man's life in the backseat
by the all reflecting wizard's door
such a contribution we must make
as the syllables in communication
we've lost our place
going of to pilgrimages of eradication
and contaminating no one with this all consuming complacency
that is the effort which we need to proceed
I'll never stray i swear
to you my lord a pack of cigarettes
I'm on my way from yesterday
but going back to '96
the pipeline pierces through the
deep end of the abyss in in my front yard
I can't imagine all the stress my chair's
been feeling while left unguard
and so they pass the term for my abilities to burn
even the slightest amount of sugar
would decrease my awareness and
i could only then learn so much
from the touch of a tree in the wilderness
that i had gone to for i can't even remember why
WHY OH GOD WHY
WHY JESUS FUCKING CHRIST
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON
why the sun
heat strokes my moon
like a bastard i'm torn
from my mother Mary Jane
and the conclusion brings me back to the same case
of when i tried it for the first time, cause i promise it's my last
i'll never take this shit again
unless to observe my behavior
from the ego-death point of view, My Savior
I'll never stray i swear
to you my lord a pack of cigarettes
I'm on my way from yesterday
but going back to '96
the pipeline pierces through the
deep end of the abyss in in my front yard
I can't imagine all the stress my chair's
been feeling while left unguard
A simple observation
(of what) IS US
We might not be gods
shifting time and civilizations
but we can perceive
at a cost of our sanity
and even if we're not gods
why would we ever want to be
why would throw away the one thing that brings color to our being here
(incomprehensible gibberish from a person experiencing an eye opening extroversion)
credits
from Bond,
released January 19, 2017
Music by Antonio Risqué
Mixing, recording and mastering by Lukas Jankauskas (No Real Pioneers)
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