TOO LATE AT THE TOP

Increase the content of your alphabet bank, twist ’em, drop some kiss them. Rearrange mess it up symptom of society, I am in it, so that I can find what I know, rightly. Knowledge to know that what I know is an after thought on humanity, too small of a speck Einstein had a theory, so do I, eureka, the first to fly, heroic no doubt but already done. If my idea gets a run, catches on, gets put to the words of a song, in the future, will my name ring out when stories are born? Or will my idea be laughed out of school. Jumble letters on the alphabet, set them out random, scary ass phantom, invisible, nonsense, don’t speak don’t listen, May as well have x ray vision, it is a wasted mission. To know the shit I know, and still we carry on, and days when the story grows, its crazy to even carry on, acknowledge all this garbage and carry on as normal, when did that become normal. Protest to who, when at the top its run by a crazy fucked up crew. Run the world, listen to you, who, but what will happen if they come for you, who, will ttalk for you, or do we do, carry on as normal, ask a foreman, ask a jury, who will speak for me.

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