What’s to say about shit?
Nothing to say about it.
The more I lose my shit, the more I can use this shit
To make my illusion good
When I’m being used by him, I’m being used by a goat
I go do it, I get to it
I don’t care how it look or how it feel to you, bro
Sister? I don’t know what to say to explain my actions
From my reactions to fact or fiction
My religion is no disc, kid
Can’t put it on a CD-Rom
I won’t read a story made before Vietnam
Lennon on a song
Try to sing along
Lucy on my dong
Fuck the world, I’m gone
Fuck it man, wrong
Still just creepin not really sleeping down to my imp kit
What am I saying? I’m bulimic.
Give me a little time, we might see shit without the drugs
And if we can’t get them more, than that’s all, that’s the thugs
Government trying to shut us down
For having our religion spiritual, off the ground
What are they thinking? Why are they ruining people’s lives?
What could they get out of their own disguise?
What they could get from it is peace
Learn the truth of life and be happy in the blissful lease
What can I say to it, G?
The world is born and corrupt and all about money
People come second only to earn something imaginary.
Fuck, it really god damn disgusts me to see a beautiful planet turn into something so disgusting
There’s nothing I can say, and nothing I can do
I’m just one person, how about you?
Speaking how I feel from my soul stream of wheels
Turning in my gears, burning all my ways
When I don’t think, the words come out instead
So if I do this more, maybe I could learn to ignore my reactionary impulse to control the situation