I can't help, feeling like this.
I'm standing in a point in time, at place will never exist.
The illusionist made our names a thing of the past.
Money became God, and Saints became the snakes in the grass.
And we run on treadmills; pictures in fairytale lockets.
I can't get ahead with both the man's hands in my pocket.
You either run out of time, or start building a debt.
You can bet, you burn both ends at once, claiming the best.
Never searched deeper meaning, fabricated because..
Overlooked as a black eye livin' next to a judge.
'cause everyone's a hero and a spotlights a must.
It's easy when the villian is a commercialized drug.
But when I speak truth, they must being hearing rainforest savage.
But they'd burn my garden down because I rolled up my cabbage.
The fact I speak my mind bring vibes that make them sick.
But this a sinking ship, and I am hydrophobic.
I used to sip my nights away. Felt my soul grow hollow.
Bottomless collection of empty bottom shelf whisky bottles.
Misconstrued my darhma, counted on karma and fell asleep in my dreams.
Materialism stomped out my voice, its just really how it seems.
©cheetah
C