Do you listen?
Trust you in your prison,
Quite simple to you, charlatan;
Your sight! So high!
Glare of weary,
Do not loathe thee!
Blind pride never guesses,
what dare you took
you are the fly…
for an address,
with a sign,
do not disturb.
and in a way so do we.
No need to rush,
Pace is right,
It’s the simple things,
If it’s worthwhile,
It starts with the simple strides.
Them Ocean Nights
Sing in flames,
fucked you wild;
Jesus who’s to blame me,
I paid that pussy clean bills.
Made you taste from forbidden tree,
Still make you scream when your children are born;
Wait near dawn, and wait near dusk,
patience never played a part.
I dream up diseased demons,
Who believe in getting even,
Evil is deceiving,
It’ll confuse its very definition,
Do you catch the meaning of that?
Heed the words,
Go find a group of friends,
Hide out in the trees,
Better bring a wide, thick fence..
They never have protected,
Becoming is the wormwood,
Cathartic are the events,
I’m coming for you, sweetheart..
Only we can prevent forest fires (by smoking blizzies in doors- places of residence, man).
Keep it tuned too smooth plume radio: we keep you up on ways to get you up there (where ever, there’s a lot up up there). The lifts, we got ’em for the ride… Butter shreds, concentrated land.
Guessin’ it’s around there, coast caressed, cruisin’ past the mellow roads.
Yellow homes with emerald bricks..
This smooth plume radio,
One hellovah trip..
Free fall, Phoenix, you were here before the ground,
Mountainous, fountains of lava;
Rivers, crimson, oceans, seas.
Energy, bursting to brilliant flames.
Breathe into my skull, Phoenix, melt the mental gouts.
Waste away the chaotic trauma,
Remember me, please;
Burn to oblivion,
the nasty, emotional stains.
Stagnant blood doesn’t stink that much,
Void of evidence, make believe smudges
Ladies and gentlemen, I am fanatical.
Practice, no ones perfect..
Boy, stress the play..
Ancient recollections, eclectic memories,
Underrated legends should be worth remembering,
Sample, simple, sensual, sweet… From the juice, you know, garden of fruit, the organs down under the tree.
Like your larynx hurts,
Got with my paycheck,
For the cloud of stress..
Best not to go to bed..
..not quite yet
Look at this pen,
Glance, reflect.. Tell me what you see..
What does it seem?
are you a part of this world?
Or are the cosmos just something you dream?
Given you, what else can you claim you know?
You raise some coded lingo,
You forget to feel the passion,
You’re unable to tame this pen.
That’s about all I know..