Would I want to hear the echo
When the canyon’s in the mental
Stages in the pages stating
How I’m falling but won’t let go
Sound the horns sounding fine
Rage is set to driving rhymes
Off the level where the stencil
Traces out my space and time
Cut the nerves to feel the why
Shatter worlds to see some bright
If I rip my destination would dimensions
Let me fly
What’s up with this border
Looking like I’m looking further
Time the ticking
When the sickly
Cures himself with mutant colors
Shapely shifting comfort living
Lifting thoughts and then my being
Lovely lady sees some grinning
Rising suns now raise my feeling
Often courses pour their bending
Rather eat with 2 cent spending
Only tip I provide
Will pierce the ending
Look above there’s more beginnings

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No need to get my mental status cold stressin