Word, that's the essence of war...
A long way from writing idle threats on messaging boards...
Now it's about pressing record...
They never felt this pressure before, I guess they ignored...
However, they'll remember real fast once the exit the door...
I was blessed with a more or less perspective, to score...
More or less moralless, with a dexterous core...
I pull this pen out, n' these messages form...
Self reflection-reform, these texts are as if you have stepped in a storm...
Uh. dropping lessons while the rest of them mourn...
The architects of the forums stretching out every lecture before 'em.
Yeah, I've been reading the news...
They fired up, but who is feeding the fuse?
Please tell us, because we are confused.
Faint echos of drowned out melodies leaving the rooms...
Listening to elected officials that we didn't choose.
Where do your allegiances lie?
I'd probably say on a display...
Speak about foreign policies you wanna dissuade?
Whatever comes to light, is gonna fall in the shade...
I mean, where do your morals go when you're not getting paid?
Often amazed by the dichotomy n' obvious sayings
Between commonality from the reality you got, in exchange...
Oh, not exactly the feature, then?
If we die, then we ascend... treating it like an easy end.
Out in the cold, but it will probably freeze by then.
You realize that it's far deeper than anything we can pen...
That winner circle? Is Paradoxical. There is lots to go...
Possible it's gone, just as soon as you cross the road...
Many obstacles got to watch for, so you have lost control...
Oscillating between how your thoughts will hold the subconscious load...
Woke minded, but sleep deprived...
See flashes of the Luxor Beam, as it meets your eye.
An affirmation of all of the secrets that you keep inside...
Full of rage now when you used to be a peaceful guy...
Bring that humanity out of you, so it can be alive...
Feel the flow of the conduit navigating uneven tides...
Say you haven't felt this way in a while - you'd be surprised.
The spirit dies, when the mind accepts that it lost.
Giving up on everything, not knowing the death that it caused.
Fuck it, I might as well live it, n' reap
the consequences as they come to me. Maybe then, it can humble me.
Perhaps, if my worlds collide? And I can no longer tell fact from fiction?
I'll live what comes next from the ashes n' never ask permission.
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