its my head full of poetry its touchin that botton pullin the leverits never sayin never its cance and its foreveritseein things in slow mo to be fast its bein in the futcher but still livin in the past its the smoke riseing from the chard asses its the every day terf
classes its the landscape overflowing withe crowd masses
its the moment of thruth when ur word gets testedits compleate madness its sinn withought bliss is your
chest and my fist its the process of inventivness