Running, always in circular patterns carving
Truth within the caves and valleys of my brain
Etched and typed in the eyes of the few
Who seek to expand the infinite walls crashing around them
A continuous fleeting wanting fading & overcoming
Static paradox pushing through thought-water
Floating in plain view, bobbling on the surface
Closing lids for dream-speak lucid escapements
Morning becomes this different view from night paranoia
Sailing on a fragment of insecurity and misunderstandings
The words held on for so long becomes an outcast
Claimed for the occult when the truth is too hard to stomach
Upside down deadbeats born to accommodate law,
To serve you food, to cut your hair, or to uplift anti-nature
With their rules and the rules made from nothingness
Which they fear because we are all fucked
Happiness isn't anything more than a chemical boost from neutral
Since everything in reality is what we make of it
There has never been a matter or circumstance to create emotion
Just a false illusion to justify reactions
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