On the roof with my fiddle,
The word is truth,
My life be a riddle.
Cartoon world, cars tuned,
Whirlpool girls,
Trained to see through,
Conspiracy theories,
It's what we've come to.
Trained arms, and words to fight.
Triad notes, and nose-bleed nights.
Feeling light-headed,
Helium balloons.
Your story, I read it.
Same song but a different tune, right?
So drop a beat on that,
And give me two,
Blunts, to knock me out,
Dome shot, sativa rule.
No auto-tune, to heal the soul,
With no control.
Psychedelics.
Climbing up through the mind,
This mind,
In a depth of truth.
Search for air but there's no find,
In this ever after.
Whats it to you?
Low profile laughter? Civility?
Undercover cops and their integrity.
Round 2,
Find the words to give to you,
My only friend, ecstatic when,
We meet again.
I've lost the world and can't comprehend,
This visual,
Or the voice I cannot win, within.
Hear my heart bleed,
Sweat feed,
Hungry souls with venom, see
It's death, greed, what kills us all eventually.
Lead, the masses, with songs of peace,
Humility, and struggles to aid in,
There.
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