The die has been cast.
so what's in the present tense?
rosy skies, thunderclouds,
death shrouds, diapers.
Protocol leads me to believe I have a lotta thoughts
some of which are barely judgments
vindictive in the abstract
philosophy without the baggage.
I am the model, the mechanism!
the sweet bastard gulping for air
my dependency, depending
on the formless mass to magnify
and explore the outcome
yeah.. that's somethin to suck on.
So I step into the same river twice, but I was twisting
twin brother- always insisting
throw my weapons down in heat of desire
Skin is melting but I'm singing in the fire.