Virulent

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Son Anthony

3:05

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Banging out these rhymes with a ball peen hammer
There is metal in these lines that ionized into a rap song
Coughing into napkins is like airing exhaust
Fair weathering these days because it all seems backwards
And I have had it with this geriatric plight
Of feeling like I'm father time around the innocent type
Becoming euthymic after being counseled by the
Same one who used to love me then closed the door on our life
Without me. (Without me)
Yeah, I like how that sounds
That's how this autopilot feels when I'm out and about
It's like I'm here but I'm not here if that makes any sense
I just followed directions on how to disappear completely
Delusions of grandeur after looking in mirrors
I receive so many compliments but doubt their sincere
What's real and what's not will appear when one's clock
Stops rotating it's hands and then eventually stops

I apologize for the mix up
This virulent attempt was meant to be end all be all
These pangs ring as a loud church bells
Where each of the rings are so angelic they also bellow with growls
The sounds mellowed me out. They avoided any incidents
Like hanging off the precipice of cliffs while the wilderness
Bewildered by repentance as coincidence would have it
I continue all the habits that condemn me to the blacklist

Plagued by the halo effect
My horns have this charm where You can't say no to them
You're intrigued from where they stem. You can look but can't touch
When in doubt I pull them out as an intimidation tactic
My bed rests under dream catchers so that they
Catch extreme terrors in the night and expel them
To hell where they dwell from instead of entering
My head where they're welcome to build my everything

As I write this letter
I hope you it reaches you well
There's still so much left to say
That I haven't said

I triangulate the pros and the cons
The haves and have not's in accordance to what I've got
And what I am yet to gain. Egocentricism can be
This great big bane if you're planning to stake a claim
Without becoming what they aim at or to someone who asks
What gives you the right even when your ass is wearing hockey pads
Stop me if it's obvious that I would be the folly in this plan
To save myself significant embarrassment

Shake this pop and open it up
Then spray it away from the hands that are clutching on cups
Missing to fill them up with the intention to deprive
Any need there to imbibe where insides are dried up
My eyeliners running due to tears and perspiration
Which converts my vision black and leaves a burning sensation
Getting closer to God while volatile towards Satan
And I'm in the continuum's middle

Now I wrote this letter
I hope you it reached you well
There's still so much left to say
That I haven't said

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