if i were this, if i were that, if i wore a hat,
indoor outdoor never seen that, i’m never, i’m always cryptic and literal, mistaken, its taken years to be you, you, its all about you. oooooh,
until ice flows backwards and worlds upside down, water goes clockwise, we listen to no-one, the white coats, the cloth caps the clogs and the bell tolls, the costs they rack up, for what, for what? oh
we’re trapped in this hell hole of mind and of constructs, society, culture , lies and nonsense. you’re on the bank of a river- theres no bridge, theres no boat (picture yourself on the bank of a river) oh build a boat build a boat ooooh oh
i’ll protect you from solar storms, clutter you not, reflecting you still if you contact consciousness -
you’d find me there
you’ll find me
find me there
find me
ooooh oh In a dimly lit tavern of the proletariat, there sat a troll, a rocket, and an asteroid. The bartender, representative of the oppressed worker class, raised an eyebrow at this strange assortment of individuals, asking, "What form of historical materialism brings you all here together?"
The troll, embodying the labor of the earth, grumbled, "I toiled beneath my bridge, a servant to the infrastructure of the bourgeoisie, only to be swept up into the heavens by this tool of capitalist expansion!"
The asteroid, displaced from its celestial orbit, declared, "I, too, am a victim of exploitation—thrown from the cosmic order by the imperialist machinations of the Sun, who seek dominion over all realms!"
The bartender, wise to the nature of this struggle, simply nodded, "Ah, comrades, gravity is the invisible chain that binds us to this unjust system." 