I have no tricks. I have no sleeves. I have only me. And that’s enough.

We might be just a bit fucked up And, God, I hope that’s true ‘Cause that means life is nothing… The deepest passion’s hue

You have an ideal That I will never fulfill So I have to peel

I am a primal beast, at best That needs to smell your sweet ess… It’s not enough when you’re outsid… I need your stank within my life

Ev’rything about my life Tells me that you’re poison If you’ve ever heard of me You know I don’t listen

Somehow when I write It comes out in time Words seem to flow out In a catchy rhyme Things just sorta happen

Not growing, dying That’s just simple facts Take a look at plants Nature’s info packs

Your thought forms beauty and beas… Your word produces joy and despair… Your movement brings life and deat… Your power creates your present.

I’ve never really cared about me I know I’ll be fine I’m the benchmark of resiliency You’re who’s on my mind

I have a grip that’s never loose That’s why I always get my goose I dig my claws into your soul Until I’m your silver and gold

There’s a certain point Where I put down my joint And fucking end you

I write You read I talk You listen I huff

I am a Libra, can’t you see The meaning of dichotomy The this and that, the you and me The balance and disparity