theres no album here being made, its all free from what was gave.
give it back to the people, who progress from the change.
he who is the one, of the power that enslaves.
what you make out if it, is better than what it pays.
the things that are gone now, are better than what stays.
from the trees cut down ,to the roads that are paved.
for ones who pay, to sit through the games.
or the ones that raise those, to pass on the graves.
going through all the shades, while i choose to stay gray.
equilized, getting to the detail and definition of whats civilized.
they do it all the time after all its been ritualized .
now things of all this in the view of the enemies eyes.
what we know ,is what they wan,t until we meet demise.
we see fast past the marked seems of the skies.
we can sit back and laugh at the suits in ties.
but they make off well, this is work and they see through our eyes.
I’m fine with mediums while others like it supersized
just know it will ketch up to you just like the lies.
what comes to mind first is word to the wise.
the fat depths of the bottom will eventually come to rise.
the ones who want nothing out of something big are the ones who shine.
i welcome to you a place, i call beyond the pines.
carve it up nice on a dish here you go eat you swines.
guilt trips are made better than pleasure
i leave it to the swordsman who chose which head to sever
i hope you listen to this and thinks its clever.
here are the numbers look like, that a tape couldn’t measure.
W
we are all different birds of a feather that fly together forever. for you!
