[dead man]

i guess


it's sad for itself. a silhouette that sat on the shelf
unaware of how abandonment felt. home is a thought
of overindulgence. note to mirage - you're bad for my health
what can you do but wait in silence for the capsule to melt
my brother heard a voice, screaming. asking for help
now that he's gone it seems i've picked up on the habit as well
so pick me up a twenty-bag or drag me to hell
from an era where the thrill is gone and abstinence sells
it gets harder to tell whether monogamy counts
when there's passion in the battlefield but not at the house
olive her skin, tonic her svedka, cotton her blouse
communicating undercover like reconnaissance scouts
put my keys on the table. put that shot in her mouth
she opens up like caves of wonder Ali Ababwa recounts
it only got quieter once we started to shout
called an audible and walked. the only option was out
couch surfing for a theta wave to throw me a sign
from an era where GD stands for growth & decline
my city is a battlefield for soldiers to die
i've seen their moms' smile when those diplomas arrived
how their brows twisted tearful when they lowered the box
speaking reassurance with my stomach in knots
pandora holds a piece of mind i've opened a lot
jotting thoughts even though my demons told me to stop
optimism, realism, theologists agree
that no matter what, it's all okay. it's only a dream
i left a note on the fridge that should be reason enough
to let this hate become a seasonal drug, read it and shrug
read it or weep. follow the sheep, i am leader of goats
making hall of fame worthy look like decent at most
focus and you'll understand. believe it or don't
there is no good - only absence of the evil in folks
breathe into your center. let the chemicals float
soak inside the hologram and breathe into smoke
people are so terrified. it's really a joke
remember. no, anticipate. amnesia, she wrote





deadman