I need your opinions on this matter.

So from my own political revolutionary/evolutionary stance, I am going aside from that and posting up this tune, I want all of you to tell me what you think about this. Please don't be shy and let me know your honest opinions.





I've been riding from the outside now that the outside is lonely,

There's a penalty for wisdom in this life, I wish somebody told me.

Before the notebooks were full of this, good things I would've been quiet and never had the nerve to complain.

But instead I am lead to believe that these songs will be perfect. If I stick to my instinct and stop being so nervous. It would be easy to go backwards and try to break the stairs and told somebody for wasting their wisdom of theirs.

I'm trying to build myself the perfect role model, but I have to work with are ash trays and beer bottles. All these strangers have infected these heart chambers, connecting majors and corruption with their culprits and their majors.

Replacing blood with poison, just to go out with a smile. So maybe you should just stop asking and relax for a while.

Let this be the example for my enemies to try and handle, cause the world has got me written and protected from being sampled.

Canned with this damaged expression on my face. Taken from the list of movers

So I guess I'll shake this place up and still be the one who finally straightens it out.

Hibernate in Norwalk and then we can soar down south.

There is nothing new that I am giving up that can be found again, and a sandbox full of coloring books it took all I had to say when.

Its too late to make fate stop and notice my bruises, but I promise myself that I would never mix drinking with excuses.

I come to learn that not even the most beautiful voice can persuade, a knife and a pair of eyes and ears to behave.

But my friends have the strength to lift me with their might and adding some common sense to some decisions when hitting me against the worlds of unemployed clowns and sheep.

The left over soldiers who refused to think deep.

I rather cut off my hands from spending and stop leaning and uprooting my tree from dying soil to finally start feeding on dead substance keeping awake, but not a alive.
And it's moving with the rat race, but not in stride to fly.

I was giving the answer when I was six tattoo on my left arm, but I can't reach truth that's only skin deep.


Crash into the shore, with a sarcastic approach to gravity.

Smashing all your eggshells, challenging anyone to battle me.

Cause I approach all my notes with quotes from fiction writers, who could've told my whole life story in 500 words of maybe one all nighter.

It's satisfying your appetite, feeding your brain new words.

For the disturbed worthless purpose is in keeping the lines blurred, but when your punch line is about to go and you story gets interesting, most people just find excuses that will keep them from discussing.

I'm blasting off mine while converging till the clouds collapse.

Hanging valuable miscourage past the point till my neck snaps, but tonight I've been given the chance to make it all clear.

Living from misfits dreams from the last 21 years.

We've been stucked in the foolish fashion cone, by the enemies we can't see

Living out our pop culture that causes our lost and griefs.

So believe when I say I've been wondering the interface, collecting artifacts to bring me back to man's grace.

Maybe the only thing that is suffering musically is my taste,

So maybe hard drums and crazy patterns are living with what I create, or maybe all the facts have changed and I have no reason to complain or maybe all the answers were burned in books and hidden in crates.