Thursday, February 4, 2016

Relation 7


I continuously wonder if I have anything useful to say
To teach, to pray, to call my own, probably not, probably
But who cares, if I shall not transcend then I will let other do
As I may become the mirror of yet another generation
Lost in transition and translation, never knew, never did
X doesn't know better, or maybe they do now
Y is in worst condition, we grew in the middle
Z is probably dumbfound, trapped in a brave new world
So behold, what is around me shall be my own coffin
This city, its people, what happens here may not matter
Now, today, tomorrow, ever, we may not be nothing
To me it is, probably to other five, that makes me think
If I can make this city finally achieve legendary status
Remove the dark veil surrounding it and put proof
That what they talk about is the mere truth
Unholy deals, strange turnabouts, what about important people?
Fuck, who cares, probably nobody so far
If they keep up with their heads up their ass, talking in agony
The same misiones, the same casinos, prostitution, alcohol
Can we talk about something else now
Can the old ones put their final leg six feet under
Can I speak now, no, well fuck you too, thank you then
There is so much to bring upstairs than this shenanigans
A wonderful psyche, so brilliant, so unique, yet you ignore it
Time to slap some people around, tell them how this is done
Stop the bullshit, stop this train, whatever is it, just stop it
I don't want to hear any more of this, or that, or you, or them
It baffles me, am I some sort of genius or are you really that daft?
Time to crack my knuckles, get ready to fight...

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