I'm seeing destitution, no revolution, my resolution lies in lower pressure
These hands of mine, in sands of time, have dried to stone & festered
It's continental, consequential, deposits of rocks.. not so monumental
Just building blocks & a plot leading up to when I stop the solemn venture
I admit, when I'm hot I'm hot.. but when I'm not, I'm cold as can be
Our sun drops, alone in my dreams.. the bipolar omen froze in the breeze
The next day's scolding me, & w/ no shade of life I'm hoping for trees
Or other roads out. Peyote growing so openly, coping, just floating to glee
See.. endlessly it's pain, trust me, your soul will never be the same
Serving as burial grounds w/ scarier clouds, wormholes & skeletal remains
Burn slow, it's hell off in these plains & miles of torturing memories
Corpses of enemies, venomous scorpions, remembering poison is entering
Sets in the organs & courses, even rendering portions of hemorrhaging
It's best to avoid it, this path ain't just for testing out Porsches & menacing
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This land's making our demons proud, they're angrily screaming loud
Keep my story in mind.. & say your prayers, when taking the scenic route
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