• Look up to the heavens
    the sky looks down on you
    because there's only one thing
    between us two
    you chose the path
    that led to steps
    in the right way
    but in the wrong direction
    mismatched cross section
    is where i halted last
    now passed
    and behold
    i hold the world aghast
    fast paced rat race
    to the arms to the devil
    we hold no key
    no secrets to this level
    so dont meddle
    in the affairs of the wise
    you may find what you love
    is what you truly despise
    the key to ones soul
    is not in his eyes
    but to unlock it
    and unblock it
    one must see through the lies
    that one creates
    when fear appears
    but to experience this
    has brought among men
    tears
    and the sheer
    affiliations
    that man afflicts
    is subject
    to the needy and quick
    who hold precious
    the undubious lives
    that go about the hides
    of mans great prize
    taint yourself with cries
    that call upon your soul
    like numerous flies
    in the waste
    of humanity
    while we wallow
    in depravity
    of the senses
    it is senseless
    to be distracted
    by those who contacted
    the matchhead
    and struck a flame
    lit up the picture
    and burnt down the frame
    no residue
    we bear no heavy news
    from the occupational
    interstational
    counterrational
    problem packed piled up
    on the patio
    and it's not racial
    just to be
    overwhelmed by the
    spacial
    difference of the
    providence
    we call the
    holy land, but again
    we must consider our
    position, in addition
    to the stars
    superstion is just
    another repition
    of worship
    an if you ever wondered
    if there's more than this
    ignorant wisdom to spit
    in your ear, no to sit but
    just to mold and forget
    take a moment
    to mold and smith
    your ideas
    put them down
    and let them
    grind your gears
    nourish you mind
    the brainstorm pierces
    the air, so thick
    yet so full of light
    innovation, that could
    put a nations situation
    on pause, and we draw
    another tool
    no school
    would ever give a child
    because they might have
    the whole globe defiled
    but mild is the mind
    of the awake, his
    consciousness could
    shake the foundations that we make
    to support our weak
    little languages
    just to
    hear us sing again
    i would be nice
    if i could se my dreams again
    not to sleep
    in a silent nightcreep
    the feeling in my teeth
    as i speak to the street
    realizing that we can never meet
    where we live is a rift
    someone's demeaning
    little gift
    no bridge
    i can't drift
    across this gap
    no lift, no strap
    no break, no nap
    the gate shuts
    and cuts the
    stillness of the night
    like a knife, and a klang
    you're out of the game
    destroy your name
    yet fame is a gain
    that can only temporarily
    rain
    when the water dries out
    you cry out
    no one will reach out
    or reply to your shout
    it weighs heavily like a gout
    or the body is too old
    to bear witness to cold
    misunderstandings that misguide us
    change lanes and ride with us
    thus block out trust
    then we must
    be our own sea gust
    that pushes the boat
    or our ambitions
    cross the moat
    of intuition
    just a decision
    where it isn't about precision
    and regardless of religion
    unless the dungeon
    of society
    looks past
    sobriety
    i can feel the
    eyes of throne
    eyeing me
    prying me
    apart from
    my intentional start
    when i push the
    cart
    that carries the last
    shard of my heart
    and translates it
    a little bit farther
    than it was meant to mean
    and so it seems
    that i can't be
    what i intended
    to be
    and to breathe
    but purposely
    cut off the sleeve
    can't release
    no way i'll feel
    completely relieved
    because i believe
    that i can feel
    things
    i actually see
    and to retrieve
    these scenes
    makes me feel
    unnaturally clean
    with a sheen
    i lean on
    the wall
    where stashes
    of massive creatrues, jaw smashing
    just imagine
    who is laying in the basin
    with out asking
    yes without a guess
    you suggest
    it's a mess
    of the worlds
    most powerless
    the best
    embodied
    in this abomination
    stilled conscious
    bad situation
    knownledge is a key
    but it's double edged
    handle will make you bleed
    you need to patch up
    the leak
    and proceed
    before it grows like a weed
    indeed unchecked
    it could wreck
    the symetrical system
    attached to your neck
    and imagine
    the effect
    and how it
    will affect
    you less
    suggest another
    strategy
    you can't live
    massively
    casually insane
    yet unlikely
    humane
    this is your
    pain