2004-05-16 - rymshot
I prob'ly should here mention
this rerun show detention
is really quite essential
to reach my full potential
outward pressure, then collapse
into offbeat mental traps.
no fetishicistic freakshow junks
I'm down but don't be hatin' punks,
rockers, players, ravers, scholars,
rollers, skaters, bikers, ballers
inward driven life force push
winds of change and burning bush
always was - ever shall be
new paradigm inside of me
benevolent spirituality
won't be hatin' - that's not me
now this pressure, like a tree,
pushes right through rock, debris,
concrete, slate and density,
this non-stop creativity
once inside, continually,
finds a way to set me free
from every drone, device of hate,
things we don't appreciate,
cuckholed in the nests of thought
passdowns which infest the plot
passageways through human veins
passengers on crazy trains
locomotives pushing through
hosts of natives using you
"try me, eat me, smoke me, play,
this must be your lucky day
one stop, sweet shop, no delay,
fast, convenient, charge or pay?"
I must learn to not give in
not like I did before
accept the place I now live in
and camouflage the door
I'll hide inside and won't come out
until I hear the watchman shout
twelve o'clock and all is well
(that's when the night has cast her spell)
the absence of the light can tell
perception's extra sensory cell
to operate night vision sight
nocturnally discern what's right
in terms of terrorism and your soul
there's entities which want to take control
a hidden scheme of seeings
that dead regime of beings
that ghostly interference static cling
of afterlife foreseeings
false advertised guaranteeings
subterranean, vile, unholy thing
that seeks to suck you in to the machine
an undercurrent trend toward the unclean
or use whatever means to keep you blind
a useful source of access for its kind
all those who don't press through to know the truth:
the God revealed in nature from your youth
he's got me here but I don't mind
I think it's awesome to unwind
and let the blacksmith fashion for this purpose
this instrument of passion to usurp us:
the vessels for some counterfeit
he'll wrestle till he's done with it
and purify the metal from the dross
all those of you who know this suffer loss
but not to be compared
is the free gift that is shared
there's no other way to go than righteousness
all other strengths are show and won't impress
the pure vision of the sight of holy fire
the one who gave his life as your umpire
and then rose again in body to inspire
- all seekers, prayers, trainers, philosophers, no-brainers, all wingers, flyers, fantacisers, freaks, all singers, choirs, clowns, high wires, and geeks... the sum of all humanity and cloners, experiments gone bad, test-tubers, stoners, and even other motivated loners - when they hear this good news story they can seek the newfound glory of the one who made this quick route to escape all the hollow inner emptiness and weight and the heaviness and sorrow of heartache and the clusterphobic onslaught interstate and the horrors of the outworkings of hate and the evils of the greed of man to date, and the other things we don't appreciate - there is nothing like them drowning in your wake as you drive the only righteous road to take, it's far better in the long run, no mistake, so please stay tuned to this station for your sake.
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