Buddah MAC
09-09-03, 03:26 AM
litter the world with stray thought til it’s perceived pedigree
break every mirror til they build a better me
impatient bastard, I spark the assembly line
workin’ each station til I hit overtime
quicklime garnish on my last meal lunch
then saw the machine in my time-card punch
and went back to nature, kept my mature stature (mis-pronounce)
meaning mature stature for those playing clue catcher
saturating solar sons with rainfall to relieve them
cuz it’s father’s turn to burn ya regardless of the season
ease into the webbing, snug as a trap can
behind you is the spider, sowing funerary afghan
red eyes blew fear over the white strands
8 arms to ease the world into it’s hands
stand on your own six, even hell has it’s moments
never plant my pivot just so my opponents
know not where attention turns, for me, ascension yearns
4th life, another pension earned, muscle tension burns
the atrophied everything, the fist through wall pointlessness
the strained wrist solitaire, the neck rope burn message
crescent moon eclipsed the cat’s eye that didn’t adapt to dark
still spillin’ modern fables til you abandon the ark
and learn to swim in this water-logged world
if you don’t dive, you’ll never see a pearl
if you don’t dig, your jewels ain’t as precious
if you ain’t worked the mine, your mettle ain’t tested
arrested development would allow conjugal visits
our expansion been abandoned once creature comfort hit us
fit us too well, lovin our lil’ parasite
a head not playin host is a rarer sight
than an understanding look on any and all who took
a ride along this chapter through Buddah’s building book
break every mirror til they build a better me
impatient bastard, I spark the assembly line
workin’ each station til I hit overtime
quicklime garnish on my last meal lunch
then saw the machine in my time-card punch
and went back to nature, kept my mature stature (mis-pronounce)
meaning mature stature for those playing clue catcher
saturating solar sons with rainfall to relieve them
cuz it’s father’s turn to burn ya regardless of the season
ease into the webbing, snug as a trap can
behind you is the spider, sowing funerary afghan
red eyes blew fear over the white strands
8 arms to ease the world into it’s hands
stand on your own six, even hell has it’s moments
never plant my pivot just so my opponents
know not where attention turns, for me, ascension yearns
4th life, another pension earned, muscle tension burns
the atrophied everything, the fist through wall pointlessness
the strained wrist solitaire, the neck rope burn message
crescent moon eclipsed the cat’s eye that didn’t adapt to dark
still spillin’ modern fables til you abandon the ark
and learn to swim in this water-logged world
if you don’t dive, you’ll never see a pearl
if you don’t dig, your jewels ain’t as precious
if you ain’t worked the mine, your mettle ain’t tested
arrested development would allow conjugal visits
our expansion been abandoned once creature comfort hit us
fit us too well, lovin our lil’ parasite
a head not playin host is a rarer sight
than an understanding look on any and all who took
a ride along this chapter through Buddah’s building book