Lets see how much i can write during a 4:15 song.

It’s funny how we worship money. The church of First National Bank with an ATM for a confession booth. Bastards put god in my pocket. Fucking A. To think Jesus died to revive the economy once a year. Here we go. We’ve lost any real depth in our own perception. We lack the motivation of life, we have succumb to the consequences we so readily inclined ourselves to default to. Our inspiration is loss-less, our faith is inseparable from our ignorance. When we hear what we know we only dissolve what we came to understand in the first place. When you let your mind ride sometimes you forget your driving. When you scare yourself ya know you come to learn you haven’t even forced your disheveled foot in the doorway. The rabbit hole is deep so they say, i’m real glad i brought a parachute. So lost are we that we have felt every bit as fun and every bit as loud when someone keeps turning down our fucking volume. We accept ourselves, except ourselves accept everyone elses acceptance or it starts getting a lot harder to get laid. See where I’m going, because honestly I couldn’t even tell myself or the sun or the moon chilllin with the ocean what time it is. 28? wha? Do you ever feel lucky? I feel sadistic. Masochistic…ism. I’m playin, i just love those words. My etymology is concise, the rythym got out of prison now i’m staring into A (even looks like a) prism that reflects an ever lucid damn pretty vision. Dammit Isaac B. , sing louder my shit is as high as it will go. Evil home stereo..what good songs do you know???… You know you were the first to make anything last for me that wasn’t present or past.