[Lindel]

I'm the cold inhibitor, bold as missiles burst -- this is world war 3
Sold your soul to the devil to get out of this predicament; lord of fleas
I am a red rapture dragon; a demi-god; and this is my fucking mission
Intuition; sucking pistons; bucking pistons; fucking woman..
I am a red dragon; going to a dead planet of tarantulas
Havoc bust; grandoise cuss''; monoliths and obelisks; avalanche and stuff
Saturn danced with us; it prayed i come back alive with bargins
Chargin; marksman; conquer obelisks in the starter moss pit
Carving rocks and seaing the light before darkness breaks
Harbor pain; pain increases with every eye this way; charm a snake..
Marksman's blaze their fangs at me; dance with seas; darker brain
Armed with pain like syringes; this is for the bitches and twitches
Snitches and ditches; I'm a komodo dragon; homo faggot
SO SO LAGGIN.. missiles bursted into flames; hurting the terrain
LOCO HABBITS; pacifists were brought to punch with dutch
CURTAINS/PAIN;; cobra clutch; I'm munching on candy and talismans
ALLEY CAT with fucking bats; ducking rats; the tarantula war started..
GARGATUAN war harbored FACTS of tarantulas; GATS were the hammered thrust..
BANDITS bust; average much.. their talons were their strength in number
BEND THE CUMBER; every rubber was busted; they fucked and ejaculated semon/ sea men..
DEMON SPIDERS: that's why I SLASHED 500 zillion of them with SEMON POWER//
EAT/DEVOUR thousands in a abundance with hundreds of tarantulas
***A/STUFF; eating flowers; ALPCA BUST: key the hour..
I'm a demon dragon demi-god; here to judge tarantulas like fucking nINEVEH..
STIFF and STUFF// I PREACHED for 100 days straight before i COULD ESCAPE..

THEY WERE RAPED..

JAPANESE SPIDERS SUCKED ME OFF; it was butter scotch
THEY fucking fought for me, they took the form of COM-PUTER BOTS,,
I loved every second of it; it was pleasureXinfinity
I am everything! I killed every tarantula on the PLANET X
ALANTIC SANK: and I was BANKED: it was time to destroy the planet
DEPLOY THE MAMMALS; as i kill the japanese spiders with CALCIFIERS FIRE!!
..

AL***ILSIR..




When I was twenty one, it was a very good year
It was a very good year for city girls who lived up the stair
With all that perfumed hair and it came undone
When I was twenty one

They said he had a frequency like some white noise that carried itself along
Buried in wealth, money couldn't buy happiness, he lived vicariously with song
Every stanza was a minúte movement, he likely wasn't good at expression
The highest notes captured him, the lowest notes understood his depression
On the brim of regression, his passive aggression attaches a lesson explained
As a passionate quest to answer the message, a rite of passage is a testament gained
No home - no family - simply, a vagabond with a softer soul and a subtle caution
From rubble, stones and bones broke, but nothing more important than the one he lost when...
...that mourning began - a collapsed lung from collapsed ceilings, shrill screams
The new soundtrack to his hardened shell, the muse of music now nothing, but still scenes
And so he thought of her, thinking from time to time that this riddle connects
Tears stream down the face of a man whose eyes dwindled down to a ripple effect
In giving respects, he mutters sweet nothings through a whispering breath
Just praying that the clock could wind back, without revisiting his vision of death
That mind like a prism, never confined as a prison - shine light in the darkness
Pint-sized as an artist making parchment the last resort for the might he could harness
But he was life-like; juxtaposed with a mannequin's stare and hipster clothes
Mixing those feelings of emotion with others of tension while he wished for growth
Disgusted, he trusted none, but befriended many on the path to a distant cove
Where oceans crush salt in his wounds underlining the face that his grimace wove
Through the grimmest known tragedies, he lifted gold and shifted goals casually
Never taking a minute to choose, no minute to lose, the only limit he knows naturally
...is the sky, once that fell, his heart sank deep when the reaper was coming
Cause the weakness of man is falling short of glory through the demons we summon
But the reason we run is the same reason we hide our secrets in dungeons
The people mean nothing, they feast with their eyes and eat for consumption
And he was not of this world, no foreign language - still lost in translation
He believed in right, morality never seems to die alone in a spot of stagnation
So then who is he? He is you and me, he is a human-being...he's an illusion, see
Portrayed as a loser, not opposite winners, but a person with no sense of truth to be
What was once his youth could be now stated as a useless plea for hoping at all
Considering the changes, pictures vividly painted everything he wrote on the wall
A word buried in ink - followed by a shot fired blindly with no beginning or end
His demons are awakened, he could die trying to face them or live and pretend
With nothing to fight for or against, his closest friends were his rivals at best
The shadows shrouded him for year and sleepless nights have put survival to rest
If it's vital, he was dying, but up until this point I had you sit through it, tense
Cause it's like the metaphor of feeling ripped apart has taken on it's literal sense
And if you've never felt the anger and pain, it's nothing like accepting abuse...
...he went through this alone and his memories escaped him as he bled to his shoes

Now the days grow short, I'm in the autumn of my years
And I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs
From the brim to the dregs and it poured sweet and clear
It was a very good year

Memory Lane. It's the road most traveled. Also, the most feared.
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