Illogic & Blockhead
Listen to the music for insight to psyche
Meaning stays illusive if you’re floating on the surface
Rise to my depths, no need to tread lightly
Nothing’s ever meaningless, our words are full of purpose
Dance in the rain, be immersed in a downpour
A splash of insane keeps the sold alive
The puddles I reflect killed illusions of grandeur
The eye of the storm, rainbows when it cries
Menstrual of melodic, pencil strokes a genius
Captivates the fans and fascinates passersby
Blessed with the gift of words to gather legions
A gift is in your belly if you cast the fear aside
Started digging graves when my eyes opened
Pickaxe and shovel at the time were the tools of choice
Sound waves were buried due to lack of focus
Attempts to raise the dead overshadowed the need to raise a voice
So I took a chance to cradle the catastrophe
Providing subtle comfort that can nurse it back to health
Crashed advanced before pressing a CD
Surprised a classic gathered dust from the shelf
Often the results of failure to comply
With the status quo of image-shapers building of a star
Place your soul in the hands of those who sold theirs on a fly
And claim ground that in the fervor of knowing who you are
Hush, little mockingbird, your song is drowning
Vultures circling the carcass, spinning dizzy for lunch
The sinking feeling in hopes of reeling in a yesterday seem tangible before the line was inked but for once
You have to live with the choices you’ve made, the games you’ve played
Were fun ’til you had to pay the price
But if you never loose a step and trek the steepness of the stairwell, elevation is the standard by which to measure life
(…hit in your mouth, but I’ma try to hold the microphone to turn the party out and if it’s the type of crowd that doesn’t like to shout, fuck it, I’ll give ‘em something to chew on, something to talk about…)