Monday, April 28, 2014

Melted Backwards

Overthrown by optimism, obscured by reality, at last I'm on the Atlas unless that was a flatless, negative ion, supercharged with ultra bion-ick, super quick I'ma be hella slick and throw a monkey wrench into my own plans just to see if I can stick, to it, make it through it, I will pursue it, an that's the truth that's how I'll do it.

Metaphorical metamorphosis, glory hole, what the hell is this? Like an oracle meets the exorcist on the other side of an orifice. Didn't see that with my astute observational ability, jeeze Louise would ja look at these I think we need divided trees, divinity defined with ease, one's right one's wrong, would ja pick one please.

When the flood gates open there's a time to freak, that time is now, so if you please will you speak, I will make sounds so that you can't think, I'm like that, I'm very rapid to repeatedly sink, into my own mind where it is I can drink, my very own thoughts, blurting out like verbal shots, verbal diarrhea is what some may call it but it don't stink, I'm afflicted but depicted with a wallet made from walrus whiskers, I think I may have saw it.

Kicking out lyrics with no music, but I know you need ta hear em, haven't written in a week or so, my thoughts I needed to clear em. I drank rogain down with some propane and an apple, my throat has hair now, but fear is hairballs in my snapple. My sight is clear now, wanna reach a place for my fingers to grapple.

Rappelling down a rock face that exists in outer space is equivalent to jumping on a moon beam if  refracted in just the right place. Almost got the monkey wrench out of this rusty clogged cog, when the gears begin a turning again you'll be glad I'm back to bog, you down with the utmost of clownish sustenance. Never try to jump over what's presumed to be a custard fence.


PEACE.

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