My dirt team minds my business my bossiness my busbyness my bark leanings to big productions over cry every guy who sees no evo hears no devo speaks no devolution revolves all volition in vilific hay seeding beneath your cortex the cambium in's poring ova all your New Year's rez elutions sporadic dilutions homo genizing unto dissolution but for my eloechotion. When I had a child's delight I was a fever, I caught a glimpse of feats out of my cornered eye but they lie, cheat and steal, they lie, cheat and steal, what can I tell to rate you for ichtyophthirius blanked bulges on your politically shed scales why did you never accept my fleece I was molting two thousand light years from home, a very model bother 'pon all rhymes, now only fangs refrain.
__________________________
P.S.:
Apologies to Tool, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, Gil 'n Sully and whoever else I ripped off here. These stream of consciousness rants really are mostly that; thus my consciousness streamed this time. I also ended up calling back this for some reason, some heathens' season of diss end. Tiredly tiered erd leeways of apologists, hare up eruption a rap sheet ruptured reap cheering in the clearing your mindfulness medium taze own zone stalked and balked for a while at ball coneyzation lupine supine lose for chasing both but one is the antidote and the other the poison which witch is we each when the loup pines for neither and runs from both is the life/dinner priciple in play? Must we always taste such decay? I told you escape was the only thing worth capturing. Must every night be of the lepus? May no howl sing the moon's stay? Oaf, execute the dictaphone, I'm dumb for today.
No comments:
Post a Comment