it's the 2006 off the map and quake like a channel bake show a reality mistake and you turn the corner like your coming home and there's no one there and you smile alone.
It's like wanting a Big-Mac or a heart-attack and you settle for the door and you walk alittle more til you hit the floor outside the corner store and the words run thin like twisted ice you licked off the fence on a quizical place...your momma is on my mind and your sister is a blast from someone else's past, your momma is on my mind and your sister is a blast from someone else's past...it is not a joke you can erase no more the shooting on the streets in the metrolplis arenas lives you thinking of hate and to discriminate and the head phones are on and isolation is the game in these cities of glory with skyscapers which aim to the sky but it is false and fake and it'll confiscate all your morals and plates. The police democracy are a common trait and the establishment which we so stand by with confidence are no longer the foundations we trust...