We're situated in the deliberately dedicated art appeal.
Solidated in, once again, deliberately stating the shpeal.
Ya' feel?
Now deal.
Coping mechanism turned contraption.
Now the Rapture has ruptured and the press is waiting for a caption.
Combat reaction, contain critical compassion we stay lackin' cause we stay elastic waist slackin',
till we're wackier than getting whacked with your own true action.
Now what's passin'?
A spliff or maybe just a stogie.
We're bogus in the way we smoke a bogie, maybe rollie,
maybe Obi Wan Kanobie.
Just keep it lowkey,
not Loki.
Now pretend you fucking know me.
+
Vacuum Sealed
Assess the wreckage.
Amongst the broken pieces there's just bound to be a message.
So reluctant a presence,
a pretense to precious obsessive.
Little dove of mine just wants to see successes.
+
Again.
Commend the use of sorry to stay friends.
Again.
Consume the lucid dream of 'on the mend'.
Again.
Perpetually set to bend.
Again.
I'm happy to be lucky to be sorry that we're friends.
