a song i guess

-incoming beam of psychic dream-
shadow clones in this work feeling useless, a quirk.
but physicality got me limited, denpa noises time for it again.
temporally dislocate personas across days away
seven times hell no, sabbath ain't a hat trick, naruto may have mad cred,
but his son got this hack then.
each fraction got some action and some traction in each own win
discontent on a bend not a friend of mine
but no comma no nokama
built a hive to survive need a pack, need a crew.
isolation got me critical
feeling cynical
and slightly whimsical

cuz i broke that chain of consequence
of divine providence
guaranteed infamy in my family for some selfish greed
following my need to be me believe
i don't wanna be useless and don't feel that i am
but this situation's got me all peter pan

stuck in neverland by my own demand

i can leave any time but the only exit puts me in a grave or worse wage slave

build an airship, hook always had the right idea
maybe we should meet up

i got skills not untested, but no target for my knife
moss growing in places should be moving not static

how many plates can i keep spinning?
how many plates can i keep spinning?
is that the art of winning?
monitize that and im livid.

success aint hard, just follow the money, and stand for nothin
and thats a bridge to far.
i'd rather be obscure not demure but no allure and some syntax inactive not attractive
pangalactic sportin mad threads of my own blend to my home mend but not home when
my own kid grown up and me not knowin

better that way i keep saying, the alternatives are so obvious
propagate my culture through a known kind of abuse,
the protag needs to be loose, and not tied to my capsized role

that's what i'll say. that's a truth at least.
maybe it's wrong but i think we belong
in a story like that, one that starts with a song.

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