Lesser was a kid in the tough years of his life
behind tough fears, he stuffed cheers in his pipe
hadn't kissed enough rears to get where he was at
he dwelled in his own realm on the ground where he sat
get around, where it's at; the meaning of existence?
seeming in resistence he stood up with insistence
against the ones who showed love without condition
but it was his mission to stand above the rendition
no submission, because it got lost in translation
hard to be pencil sketched; the world is claymation

Lesser never thought for a second of bad habit
never being drab it would much prefer to stab it
in the heart of the scab it would speak truth
as the pain he was causing was a symptom of youth
thinking of couth, remaining completely untouched
discretly he rushed, wanting to beat me in trust
deceiving the lust into believing it was a must
no one saw through; the smoke covered the crust
so who sends a reality that is only pretend?
and what will happen to us all when Lesser Ends?

Lesser held a small place in every person's heart
even as a disgrace, he faced that it was a start
cause no one could deny the simple charm of the kid
making girls cry with the pimpled harm that he did
in leaps and bounds, speak profound with new ideas
and drown in heaps of crowns, questioning what he is
what right did he possess to confess his love for it?
to push and shove for it? He'd be with you in a bit
Because his reality lay in the ability to take a hit
His morality died; Lessers at the End of his wits

hard to be pencil sketched; the world is claymation

against the ones who showed love without condition but it was his mission to stand above the rendition no submission, because it got lost in translation hard to be pencil sketched; the world is claymation

^This is your IP bitch!