I can't get them out (what?), the thoughts in my mind
With my heart in my mouth I try force out the rhyme
Worn down I climb in my sandpaper suit
With four thousand lies in a bag labelled truth

Yeah I move, yeah I move with a heap of the pengaleng
Dreaming of sleep, reach for the pen again
Flee from the stress to them far away hill sides
Cuz all the kings buggles couldn't carbonate still life

If shits still dry pick a better beverage
Sill jam baxter, the interstellar pessimist
Shit.. repping outer space with a wooden spoon
Sat with a bag of sour grapes try'na cook a stew

Sugar shoes I dance the prangalang boogaloo
Pushing through the brassness, patch it up good as new
Book a few days in a casta-del drug mash
Then its straight back to rot in hells puss flaps

Fuck that.. I speak words and mean em
Navigate reason feet first to freedom
I'm a keep sinning in this latter-day Eden
Its crease cuz the rattle snakes apples taste decent

Now I creep with the scatter brain legion
We lacerate beats and decapitate demons
The barricades weaken, dementia empowers me
Soon to develop wings, shedding skins hourly, bust it
Yeah, its spack out Monday, unravel yourselves..
Round of applause please..