Viva la Rebellion
Peter pays for Paul in this wicked age Dire is the end of this system of slaves Bemused by dazzling paltry things As the land turns to desert And the seas are besieged Poison air and plastic rain Pesticides pollute the plains Nothing left to call pristine As we capitalize off all the living
Baby boomers Gen X Millenials Gen Z It’s the clash of the generations The inquisition of the final three Scratching heads like they don’t know where they came from Pointing fingers at this and that
The shitstorm’s a coming Better think up a plan Better sit tight or go hard Better find a new klan Ain’t no way you gon make it Get away scott free
Bedeviled by the backwards man He’s got the whole world diggin his backwards dance He’s got a backward suit And a backward stance
No one walks backward fast as he can
Take my money I’ll dig you a hole Call me a sinner I’ll play that rolen Mock my ingenuity I’ll make you scream my name And if you try to crush my fervency I’ll burn you just the same
The kings of the world keep playing that song The one with the hook that says, “Just remain calm!”
My trigger finger swollen I’m jonezin I got my mind made up and my money on my own plan Now who’s holdin? I got no nac for these jiggaz who don’t get it til the aftermath
The city silence don’t take See all the silence is yo-o-ours The silence is yo-o-ours Time don’t go back I’m a be oooon To make you-ooh walk in the raaaain
I had a super symbolic dream this morning. I don’t remember much of it. What little I do remember will be forever etched in my mind.
Lie awake and dream
Lie til we all go insane
I don’t owe you anything
You owe the world all you own
Today was quite the eventful day. First I had to do paperwork for an internship as a residential aid in midtown Manhattan; whereupon I took these snazzy pics displayed on my Hell Mary poem.
