Beyond

Either my time is coming or it’s running.

All i really know is that it’s flying like the nun that i’m becoming.

While i’m slowly dying like the sun the one that’s lighting up the moon

That’s lighting up my mood inside the room i’m lighting up in.

Trynna find the summit. trynna summon something

Inside of a sudden moment hoping to inspire something.

Trynna light a little fire up inside my stomach.

Cause in end you die for nothing. so i’m writing something

Just to practice. even if i try and nothing happens

Even if i die and nothing matters and i’m just atoms.

Even if i gotta work at fucking maccas.

On the bus busting ass till i’m just dusty ashes.

I gotta do it. or try at least. already signed the lease.

And i ain’t trynna find a 9-5 i’m trynna find some peace.

I’m trynna buy a peace land somewhere by the beach.

To slice a nice peace of peach light my pipe in peace.

But even if i can’t afford to record.

I’ll write it on the side walk in chalk where you walk.

My thought can’t be bought. my sort can’t be court

By no court. no force could out law what i’m for

I don’t wanna job i already got one.

To speak hope to the people that ain’t got none.

….i flow for. the broke folk and the folk law.

And so called hobo folk by the alcohol store ….

I never wrote for no more than my own sort.

No more purpose on this earth than a cole slaw.

I don’t believe in even believing at all.

I don’t believe we even exist not even the wall.

And if i really knew it i could run through it

It’s all the same matter when it comes to it

Stupid. we split the atom when they said that would never happen.

You ever thought about what you could never fathom. we going far beyond.

Staring at this blank page, trynna get this verse done.

6 years on from the day i wrote the first one.

3 around the sun since the birth of my first sun

That spun my whole earth in reverse. now the words coming to

In the scores. i let the universe run it’s course.

Let my thoughts talk with the chords.

I’m a vessel for the cause. a messenger for all the work horses on the horse

Pouring piss up on the porch.

I write this. in the likeness. off the friday night cyphers

In the car park at spiders, with the real life mike tysons.

That might’ve won the title if they had’ve had the guidance.

Might’ve won the case if they hadn’t lost their licence.

Listen. just another broke ass musician.

Trying to make living of a gift that i was given.

Just riffing. drifting. scribbling to the rhythm.

This is just a bunch shit i can see from my position.

Fat politician in some pissing competition.

People working but the system isn't. nothing different.

Nothing changed from the days of the lord and the peasant

Now they just call them land lord and the tennant.

Motherfuck paula bennet and her whole philosophy

If the country’s colonised we need a colonoscopy.

And that’s some real shit. you either know it or not.

But if you don’t squat. at least know what you got.