This Story

When I was young I was a single celled amoeba Then I learned how to go to war over ideas Now I'm into stripping mother earth of her resources Waiting for the day that today's considered pre-historic Standing on my last limb Survived by a naked brush This story was written in my genetic code (4x) I don't want to but if I have to I'll make a big mistake There's no judge or jury when you're looking adrenaline in the face Years of refinement to make this machine and I'm gonna use it to the best of my abilities My body as my armor will protect my brain from fusing Even though it still secretes its poisonous power I almost lose it Vomit inducing Diluted in the blood Cause if I ever got a full blast the rush would be too much Well you could hear the break in his grown up voice You can feel the quiver when you shake his hand You can give or take it's no one else's choice One day you have to quit, running and take a stand And all the flags at half mast Part heavy heart part pain in the ass I was trained not to think, just react Sometimes when a person goes that far they're never coming back Maybe we'll evolve to a point where fear is an experience Is no longer instinctual but rather an emotion we use To enrich our understanding of why our human ancestors Killed each other when they could have loved each other One day we'll be holding hands instead of grudges We'll eliminate our territorial circuits and know what love is One day we'll be holding hands instead of M-16s 'Till then every human being is controlled by the fight