bored with the succubus
through the chaos amazing clarity is in what i trust
chokin on gravel dust and rust but still prefer it to some logo nut bust
my lust, for the fairest, the fresh air, is or must be a walk with cold and dusty
wind from my beginning to end, never out of it and if I ever was I'd get back in
pullin my cloak around this heat within
tryin to decipher spin
who's tryinta put their beat in my walk?
who's tryinta use my mouth for their talk?
nuclear winter around me, I know these bodies I see,
but faces and souls I know and then I don't know
we're all channelling something
original patterns recede from the surface as the low (but more efficient)
programming rises, it's always a crisis, how can you fight what you don't know?
If you reject rationality as a false god made supreme
but dare commit to life as if it were a dream
find a mirror hell or a humanity machine
parallel worlds and I'm travelling between
if propaganda is environment I'm surrounded by the agricultural technique
genetic hybrid seeds like education, nations, cliques schools
get rewarded in the fall if you're deaf, dumb, loyal, and cool
grow strong live good serve us then get cut down is the rule
we've got social engineers refining our machinery and tools
everyone wants to be the cream of the crop
I'd rather be a programmer
But I'm ridin 12 hours gettin hypnotized by diesel engines with clear channel on the scanner