Vultures

I got these vultures caving in man I got these vultures caving in I feel them pecking picking in my skin Replace my moral tissue with sin Insert the thirst Expect the worst Replace your friends second and third with contact vacancies Delay your heartbeat Equivalent to tendrils of a creature in the ocean thrashing Tear apart your stubbornness to let live Let love Make love Yes Irregardless of your preferences It’s the actions that make sense It’s the small things that amount to It’s the tall things you look up to Grain of sand beneath your plants roots to aim their vertical love skyward I’m energetic for the things I find important like my family Even when it’s not reciprocal It is the visual It interests you Envision all that you could amount to Deep vision for your home roots I believe I believe Believe in me and what I do Do what you do Be what you do Chronically in love with your Confucius-Ideology You haunt me in ways I can’t conceptually Uhh visually No physically It’s permanent to feel embraced by darkness If you feel it pertains to this then speak for them They know not what they do, but they commit the crime with such satisfaction that it’s staggering to watch them rape and pillage in the streets (Test your understanding Branch out past your surroundings BLEGH) I got these vultures caving in man Please understand me When I’m being victorious, explore me When I’m conflicted, conform me When I’m anxious, belay me When I’m content, contend me I’m too honest for my own sanity I’m ambivalent to pretending I find it awesome Yesterday was the best day I’ve ever had If you’re going to kick authority in the teeth You might as well use two motherfucking feet with bedrock bricks for cleats When the swamp of cranial dystrophy tastes the sweetest You’ll find me in the back of the line with an escape plan diagram, while the Golden Ticket holders eat the samples Now make a choice, big boy (Choose one!) What’s it gonna be? (One of three) Are you gonna soak in it while the swamp water’s still warm? Are you gonna provoke the Voodoo Shaman, or will you fall comply and conform as your father did before you Any resemblance to that man is purely unusual I fit his role like a square peg in a circle hole And I’ll speak on and on and on Pick the scab of insecurity off the skin that’s always safe from harm Slip back into a cacophonous wall-of-sound pattern Eat flesh, rinse guilt, eat flesh, grey matter Increase capacity to then identify my vanity (Where’s my vanity?!) It’s been tainted by a one-sided mirror in my pocket On the other side is a belated birthday present full of endless smaller boxes (Joy not derived from opening the biggest box) Joy is compiled of the vacancy that occurs when you no longer need to alter the plot