If this is a vault,
I could get ambushed–
If it were a parking lot,
Then I could get robbed
My plate was a lot,
But i'm going back for seconds;
Well,
I walked right into that one
It'll take awhile to work its way into words
But for now, i'm still heart being hurt
Does your stomach hurt?
Did your eyes go wrong?
No!
I got hot all over,
Wrote words to a song
Worese is,
I don't think
Anything under the sun
And all of esoterics
Really string along the whole hypothesis
I hope I off myself
You can save for the car in the lot
You can purchase the clothes on the rack
But to know what you want,
And just cant have?
Like a lock on a door
To a home you don't own
Nor can you afford.
Theres no comfort there.
In fact,
Much like mother-son abandonment;
Unintentional on all behalfs.
Perhaps i could cut the time in half
Perhaps i cut cut my elbow off
Perhaps i'm a dunce
What an awful haircut
Now I'm a loose end?
I guess that's better than a tied knot
This sad song is no loose synths
But it costs two cents
And it's full of resentments
I meant it,
This is hard work
Sentiments
The smell of mints and cinnamon
ALERT:
WARNING!
REVERSE QUANTUM SIMULATION THEORY IN EFFECT
I'm still in the knock offs and riff with residual memory.
You meant it
I have an office full of blank checks
I slipped three fingers
In his breast coat pocket,
And don't you know what i discovered at the bottom
An oval
Don't open it
Oh look, a portal to another world.
Please, don't touch that.
Touch what.
Yo, we are fucked.
We are so
So as much as you say I have memories
You might as well have just filled my head with these dilemmas and politics
What a horrific incident
The jump off
What a trough full of horses and numbers!
My belief is in the sweet amenities
My grief is in the reasons for believing
No kitchen to cook in
My hair all pulled out
Bloodshot eyes
And you're right
I might as well kill myself in this apartment
While I still have it
You're right
I shit my eyelids over my hindsight
Scary people
In scary places
Doing scary things
For scary reasons
So what's a delusion
When all the world is grandiose?
What's the point of a walk
In the wrong body?
What's the point of being a showrunner
When there's already Quinta Brunson
And everybody seems to love her
Now I don't know what show i'm on
Or what I'm on about
I have a headache
And a very hard time
Wrapping my head around it
I'm thinking of four songs
And a number
Can you guess
even one of them?
What's this one on?
God, or Amazon?
I don't know,
But i'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
[The Festival Project ™ ]
7 Spades
Seven days later
Seven fake deaths
Seven stories high
7H
Rockefeller Plaza
7 Names
Same bitch
Main frame
Mother nature
Same demeanor
Technicalities take place
Sunny spaces
Nominations,
Nicaragua,
Water caves, and
Stop chasing waterfalls
And showhosts
You know they hate you.
Same old
Different day
Saint Monica
And whatername
And Joan of Ark
and Sacred satan
Listen, Linda
2-4-6-8
TEN.
AH FUCK.
THAT'S EVERYONE THEN?
EYES. WE MADE IT. WE MADE IT. OH THANK THE–
DEVIL WORSHIPPER!
I–WhaT?
YOu–YOU LIT THE CANDLE!
I THOUGHT HE WAS A VIRGIN.
YOU THOUGHT I WAS A VIRGIN?
–looked like it!
*gasps exaggeratedly, very offended*
“The impenetrable ten”
Now, the question is: can I get all ten of these people in a room together at the same time.
And the answer is: if you ever do—you'll wish you hadn't.
THAT IS OUT OF BOUNDS.
How are you even fitting in here?
I'm—I didn't.
Time is slipping. Time is slipping!
YOU SCREWED ME OUT OF A DOODLE!
A WHAT!
A DOODLE.
L E G E N D S
To a the end of the era,
But wish it was the end of the night
By the end of the year
I just might be
As high as
I never am
But god knows I am
And I know I am
High but
Sober
End of the night, but it might roll over
I'll pick you up like a four leave clover
I should have never called you
I should have never ever lover to love you
Love you
I should never come out at night
But if I come out at night,
Then I'll make it real loud I gues
I've just been wondering
Like
What is my
Midnight perfect
I've just been wondering
Like
What is my
Midnight
Perfect
I'm not a midnight
Person
More like
3 in the morning
But I don't love nothing
Almost not yet
At all,
I think in the back of my mind
I'm worth it
But when I come out
I come right back down
To nothing
I've been wondering,
Like
What is my
Midnight purpose
Imm not a midnight
Person
More like
Three in the morning
In the
Back of my mind
I think I'm worth it
But when I come out
I come right back down
To the surface
I'm not a midnight
Person
I'm not a midnight
Person
I've been wondering about my midnight
Purpose
If I'm not perfect m
You won't love me
Just by looking
I've been smaller up front
Our back
I'm big and round
And I' know. Around town
As quite the arse
Are you sure you want to ask about it
Or knock it over
aww you see R all l you s sourced your purpose
I told you I was coming over
Now you're coming over
Want to walk the long road
I might go home alone now
Really don't know
I wanna grab a quarter ounce
And just like, bounce back
I wonder whatever happened to the rockstar
He becomes her
I wonder what happened to the parked car
Explosion
Little cursed station wagon
Jetta, better than the Pontiac
I'm a a drunk
Only been to the outback once
And I woke up back in Iceland
How about that
How about a word with the others.
How about a word on the over
Copyright The Collective Complex ©
[The Festival Project, Inc. ™]
All Rights Reserved
-Ū.