I contemplate in my head least
Something that I'm good at
Self-commentary I narrate
A narrative through music
This chip on my shoulder
I added salt to it
Taste of vinegar was bottled up
Now amplified to use it
I'd rather speak my mind
Even if it's lost or broken
Think writing out a rhyme
Creates lines in creative process
Like psilocybin influence
Pathways are newly opened
Though thoughts can overload
And some doors they aren't for closing
Releases are important
Outlets for stress
When words are left unsaid
These recordings make amends
When masculinity
It may be criticized in west
It can also give off strength
If not toxic in the end
Just write about self
And not to be agreed with
Speaking out my mind
So that anyone may hear it
Thoughts should be no secret
And if it's something you'd not share
It's probably lurking
As a negative causing despair

Not that you'd guess it
Way we breeze it in a track
Only list longer than regrets we share
Are ones we're keeping yap
So don't mind me
Need two or three to ease the chat
And these lights have become shadows
And we need these to keep them back
So steaming keep them cheerful
Search for needles in the stack
And hear that pin drop
The only way we can relax
Making bare attempts means
Ending up all honeybees and traps
And these forbidden fruits we're eating
Are all made of bleeding wax
So do something or you'll cry
But we aren’t that keen to laugh
That routine leading
To that Groundhog Day
Scene with the bath
And in the room with no windows
Still can't escape from seeing cracks
So I boarded up the doors
And even paint the ceiling black
Working from the top down
It's that creepy steeple jack
It's that same old bad penny
That's been cleaned
Whilst steeped in jack
Thirty pieces of silver
For the character we lack
It's that gold for the soul
Keep receipts and plead it back no

There's something heavy wrong
When the gutter
And the swamp gets bombed
And the fuckers at the top get comp’d
So the mucker's get gone
Cause cunts are headstrong
And the government’s
At fucking def con
We're heading for war
Drunk on the finest
My fucks are in the minus
I'll ride this to all
That’s done is behind us
Cunts are wildest when
Their fucked on the wine it's
A fucking curse it's the climate
We're burdened up
With the urge to fight till they find us
Your society’s fucked chief
Look at all these cunts
That done brush teeth
And these mums that don't bust feed
All these birds that'll fuck me
It’s the one three the unlucky
From the Burg to the Dundee
The dust to the dust and the fung shui
Or the feng shui
Sensei show them that their left way
Means that they'll be left with
Nothing but regret hey
Lucked into rhyming righteous
One time for your mind
Fucked if your finding likeness