I ain't mad at nobody, man
Perhaps the infinite sadness
Is just a chance to put my mask up
A glance into the sun makes me think
I'm the only one
Then, we all stop and gawk a the chalk,
Or let's talk about it,
This is how it is in Manhattan,
If you happen to have Instagram
Damn, what happened;
A phantom, this grandson
“Lets have something for the fans, perchance;
Laugh, sit your ass in this grass and just—
Have some fun, before you come back to
Now, I've forgotten what I came for—
If I came for nothing,
But I came for something, I thought
I'm two trains from Manhattan
::pause—
You did this with your music.
Damn.
This really made you famous?
Damn—-
Is it the same god we pray to?
Damn—
So everyone's in pain, too?
Well, thank you
Words are my art,
So let me paint you
And maybe one day,
I can make a breakthrough
And not hate you
For making it before me,
But I ain't you
I'm just a crazy lady
Making bass tunes
(Fuck it, I forgot I was at work, too)
—I make music.
Amusing
Woah, my bad, I forgot my manners
I'm rude
Sitting in the grass, just trying not to have an attitude
Last semester of fame school,
Guess this is the aptitude test
Gotta get it off my chest
It's heavy, like imm getting arrested
Man, fuck New York for this exact reason:
WHERE THE FUCK AM I AT?
[a bike cart rolls by playing the song “New York” ]
Very funny, God.
But God does have a sense of humor, doesn't it?
Or rather, don't they.
Then we kiss at the cathedral
Forgive this unlimited revision
Like a splitter in the center of my mind's eye
Who summoned the suburban Jimmy Fallon;
Ah, at last we have:
An actor, and a masterpiece
Imagined as the past starts throwing tantrums at us.
Fuck you, Dillon Francis
That's all I got. For now
That, an half a watermelon,
A sad Amethyst and a disinterest in empathy
Or the internet, for starters, God
It's laundry day
Al that for $10 and
The coffee'swearing off
I should get this tattoo removed
Like a mirror, looking into you
To speak the truth, I see through you
Nothing to do now but
Screw you—-
If we're keeping it G-rated
Yep, I hate you
Humbly, I'm just a fan
Gathered in the park, all for your honor
And not Time's square
Cause who goes there anymore, anyway
Beware, the sacred master
Silver spoon and tales of
Who the fuck cares
Miss,
Hand me another corona
Quick, before the song is over
And I start just feeling sorry for myself
Whoever I am
Nothing ever hurts as bad as
Trying just to love, but can't
Your skin is white—
And mine is black
But I think we feel the same
Extr me decadence dance A&M
God knows I love a good rockstar
But I didn't know that who you were
Or who you are
Can't trust you as far as I could throw you
And I bet I could throw pretty far
Vixen- edge of a broken heart
I'm a broken car
It's a broken art
In a broken world
I'm a broken fart
—with reverb.
I had an amethyst in my right hand, and
The police man thought it was a gun
That's funny, huh
I thought
“I'll run up to him for a hug, drunkenly— “
Screaming,
“Put your hands up,
Fuck the 50
50-51!”
With any luck,
He's corrupt enough
And I'm finally done
With all the suffering
I don't need a gun
I don't even want one;
They'll do it all for me
Just pick the right one
I had an amerhyst in my right hand. /‘s
The police man thought it was a gun
That's funny, huh
No one runs the government
{Enter The Multiverse}
[ The Festival Project.™]
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