Analysis is proof of distance
And distance brings to mind repentance
Leastways that's how I see it
And check this, I’m a repository of shame
Meaning when my friends need to spit, I form an HOV lane
A speedy-line to expression
Please don’t flow into depression
Do we need the bottles of potion
Or do we really just need some honest discussion
Age of cicadas, age of insects, age of lustful sex
Age of pride in the un-earned, misused, and empty checks
It’s a bad case of too much faith in the middle-man
His influence spans rivers too wide to understand
The image he spun’s a minor chink in the grander plan
We live off the fat of the land, off the scams of the hand
Corporate end-all, it’s the neural menthol
Your goals are unspecific, your ambition, less than prolific
Life isn’t a picnic and you’d rather be blunted during it
Phobia of the grave, call it fear of the inevitable
It’s common sense and all to fear becoming a vegetable
But death is natural, no sense in trying to stress your own
Some make stress their only post to hold
Use chemical medleys to glide through life calmly
Spend days in a haze just to magic marker the pain again
We kill each other just to stay alive
Don’t keep in mind that symmetry was designed to maintain the line
In due time, realize the dichotomy’s for the blind
But that’s us, sheep without a clue, or with an excess
So which one are you? The sightless or hopeless?
The less-blessed or the fortunate
Fortunate that either choice ends the same
The finger points inward because there’s no one left to blame
Maturity breeds responsibility breeds a response to weed
A response to the THC that blinds me from stressing
The mess that is society, so when you see me with my eyes red
Don’t count on the words that I’ve said, or the flags for which I’ve bled
It’s enough to keep your head, almost certain that I’m not dead yet
Or met my end, shit, I guess I really can’t be too sure
Spiritually too poor to put forth conjecture on life’s deeper dreaming
Eastern religions have me scheming to get buddha beaming
But when the long-hand drops, all absolutes lose their meaning
Feel me?
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