back on tracks
runnin' down the train
to get to further planes
same old brain calling out your game
funny to name my ways
but when I do life stand on hold
I don't know
if you wise you don't either
have a fever worse than Ceaser's death
clef palate making my paint pallet an inlet
from all this food that gots to be wet
fed up with all these taste tests
keep watching as I commonly walk
talk a big talk but where is the chalk
it always seems to be my fault
when the picture comes out indifferent
I stand here with my witness
taking in all the infants
they are my love
that runs from the lust
eating at my brain like rust
Love is all of us
can't be healed through fear
we will win this war with
the love they provide
isn't enough some times to describe
the end of time
running through my mine
twice as much fun when it comes with a gun
melting in the light of the son
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