Art for the ears, set apart from your peers~
stark, in the rear of all intelligence, to be kept darkened and feared~
marked with a tear, silenced by visual aids within the carcass of sheer..~
happiness; but its harder to veer away from something that’ll inevitably start to appear~
searching underneath the carpet reveals masterpieces swept aside~
kept in mind, a failed transition, variegated by the ripples sent in time~
the pendant tied to the pendulum binds the penance, it tries to render them blind~
remember your find cuz the sentence’ll hide wisdom from those with pendulous minds~
never mind society saying, you’ll never climb the highest peak~
beckoning “find me sobriety entirely, not compromising all that comprises me”~
enticed by she, who dances in red with demons beneath the moons glow~
withdrawing the harmony harming me, penetrating the room slow~
who knows the meaning of life, and why all of the toons blown~
echo meaninglessly across the surface, yet intellectuals, we entomb those~
ive inherited the broom, known all along I failed to embellish falsely~
compelling to all of these inarticulates, ive got a deck that’ll make you fold if not dealt cautiously~

subconsciously awakened, refusing to be sponsoring fakeness~
yet constantly wasted, ive met a vain death often, still not stopping these statements~
its probably greatness, partially distorted when washed ashore~
from the inner sanctums of Atlantis, the currents rock the floor...~
boards loose; don’t stop the war on my account, keep fighting to keep peace a forgotten law~
and bend the rules to prevent cheating, or hit repeat to keep the same shit clocking on~
see Ive forgotten all it is to be human, so I could live like a radical, but not enough so~
cuz I still find myself lost in a realm of materialism, hands glued to the console~
at times used like han solo, a means of transportation from star to galaxy~
dont bark or growl at me, ive developed my own style, so as not to part reality~
a large fatality occurring in the catacombs of the music planet~
the intangible illusion slammed with the publicists backdrops taking the ruins for-granted~

ive come to the conclusion, granted I had help acquiring the thesis~
artists commit themselves to the sole purpose of pleasing all those who were once titled a fetus~
my rival is penis, to avoid fucking the red dressed demon who represents the earths people~
if I can drop her jaw in awe rather than panties, then I guess my lyrics condescend the term equal~

deep shit dope lyrics nice drop, improve wordplay to make it great
return the favor
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Ill piece cuzz