my tongue speaks with a poetic nature
but my heart shuts it down with being to vulger,
i'm much older in thought
but still to young to care about progress
i digest congressional nonsense
every time i hear radio static
try to stay on point but misdirected
connected to a sensus without any management
damage plan focused on the internet
radical hermit or a heavens reject
i dont charge for my thoughts
i give them out freely
cause to put a price tag on opinions always comes cheaply
not discrete, i staple my emotions to a blank page
it helps to remain sane
like a childhood war game
i got blood stained fingers from picking the scabs clean
i got scars on my phsyche causing damage like bad beef
a bliztkrieg of spitefull metaphors
a spiritul eyesore unloading on cyborgs
look mom, i made nothing of myself
im a promotional whore
without an album in stores
where do i sign the autograph
just point me in the direction of stardom
let me chase the dream blindly
without emotions or condoms