Look… just bend the fucking spoon. (feat. Destroyer)

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, February 10, 2012 Under: Rhymed Verses


"The mind that has no fixed aim loses itself, for, as they say, to be everywhere is to be nowhere."
-Montaigne


Look… just bend the fucking spoon.


Destroyer

my metaphorical fissions in dark days are prone to be immune to fear
like historical visions that spark plagues, u won't find a human here
apocolypse now. stock up on canned food & reserves on ur shelf
but when u realize there is no spoon, u see all that bends is urself
I walk thru corridors of lurid whores whose smiles make me crave to kill them
& in my horror stories the morning glories only bloom on top of graves of children
stars shatter into dark matter before u finish ur wish
and immediately sparks chatter from those with the thinnest of wits
all ur charts and graphs can't mark the path i was born to live
ur coordinates are boring.. ur algorithms are unwarranted
I'm programmed to hate this, it's all so lost & just basic
hey JP, how much DO clothes cost in the Matrix?
I take talk of inbound rocks with a grain of salt
plus I know ain't shit gettin into my subterranean vaults
whether it's raining or not, I'm prepared for what the day brings
the mind is a terrible thing, & it's been known to make me say things
& some of those things have inspired to cause damages
& some have even made me require some gauze bandages
but I pause. man this is nuts, so many haters I feel famous
cuz even in anguish I vanquish all non believers with steel.. stainless



Vulgar

Strange, strange things been happening lately that you ought to know
In the wilderness with this camper flannel to block out the partial cold
I’ve seen maggot brains dreaming in the Carpathian snow, solidified
Dark Caspians and village guides digitized - Photoshop-synthesis image time
I’d like for my kin to survive, those little realitysmashers, flying lotuses
Their saliva odorless with aspirations as high as the tides of rising oceans get
Leaked isosceles patterns patters through an echoing sophistry
Naked exponentials under the public eye tend to lean towards pornography
Obnoxiously; mankind’s most privileged appearing on that hatchery guest list
New protocols require all new fetuses at the Academy to be battery tested -
Humanity had to be separate, separatist, elitist, federal, hedonist
300 million acolytes esophagus deep in an inedible Petri dish...
What’s the bane of my existence, they ask, those asbestos compensators
That descend on every think tank and disarm defense contractor's modern lazers
Dead zone operators wandering through acid trips in a vivid blur
A headless pigeon stirs - neanderthals roam… skeleton of the Hindenburg
I run with vile wild dogs in the blue samsonite shadows
So I can sift wisdom from the whispers of the apothecary’s gallow
Gathering in ground zero, globally intricate... soul ode to the witnesses
Knowing there’s a series of unforeseeable futures cause I chose to be ignorant
A choice in itself, the moistening welts from drying mud -
illustrating Quetzalcoatl self administering body paint with Mayan blood
Indeed, my time is up - bleeding the marks of a Marxist's modern horizon
I’m about ready to check myself into Noah’s Arkham asylum
You can almost see the machines and hear the vibrations, throbbingly silent
Fuck forgetting to put my hazard lights on in the wake of Obama & Biden
My songs will survive it, divide straits and make suggestions
Follow orders, make amends - take amendments with godspeed to great ascensions
Escape the Nephilim notion that fate's connected;
You can pull off any physical diaphragm theory if you ventilate it well
With any centigrade dispelled, men inundate in cells -
Incinerated Self, assimilate in stealth, and well… enter your simulated hells
Concentrate, determined to flee I’m certain you’ll be airborne superlatively
Nobody makes the first jump because it doesn’t boil down to vertical leap
Understanding the monographs is micromanaging solid mass
In a land of colossus brass where we wash away sin & there's phantoms in laundromats
Disbanding our common traps… true spirituality abandoning the almanacs
Don’t just think outside the box, think outside the planet the box is at
Don’t bend the truth, you’ll just end up triggering the italics function, in fact
Now for my final demonstration… where’s your cutlery at?

In : Rhymed Verses 



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