Stream of Consciousness
Stream of consciousness, infinite beams of nonsense
Like a fleeting optimist in the apocalypse
Or dreams of dominance the closest thing to Godliness
Somehow searching for truth inside a script
Vowels & consonants with meaning only I can glimpse
Freedom of speech impedes with constantness
My thoughts recede like continents needing mental pangea
Only stating obviously where the pencil lands deeper
To reach the ear of hearers lyrics need be clearer
But what if the ear is merely he of seer in the mirror
That's all I see in this sea of seers peering from the theater
The peanut gallery's rather my peepers peering from nearer
My own naked reflection in the faces of my peers
This stream of consciousness arches from artists like aiming pee-ers
Breather, who am I writing or reciting for?
Thinking cleverer, better or whatever so it's liked much more
I hope you listen & envision this indifferent scribbling
Maybe to find a message in this mess if not there isn't then
This room is nothing but a prison that I'm living in
My own mind's exposed rhymes are bars I bang a tin against
Whether they're kin or friend or distant witnessing my vocal spin
The thickness of my skull which are these walls is always closing in
Is it selfish to say that y'all are just figments?
Of vivid imagination, emancipated from in this?
Probably it is, honestly I'm still that kid which
Likes to play with words & let the noise move me, for instance
Gibberish giblets, bickering bigots, pickling picnics
Sniveling snippets of devlish dead beats
This lead beast so gnarly snarled darkly through this next sheet
That bled & squeaked, squirrely burrowing squirmishly, &
Blurtingly squirted some blurry speech, something bout geez
Forget about words, let the sounds speak, like…
Chorus: 8 bars
Flow of awareness, knowing what there is
Going the road so many pary & openly sharing
Vocalists sparing important declarings
Boastingly blaring erroneous clearance of what is wholesome when compared with
Soulful experience, ‘though spoken I fear it
Most of us know it can be scary when noting the buried
Close to this very I hold it the dearest
Let's go somewhere that our ghosts are the rarest, Oh I hope someone will hear this
Wordsmith in a lyrical guild
Here it's enstilled in scripture, interior filled
With mixtures of both fear & a feeling so ill
I picture this being here still for years if I'm k**ed
But mister, who am I but a speck in the greater scheme?
Fying freely through the scen'ry was my favorite dream
Reocurring like the current in a wavy stream
Of thought movements I choose this 'cause it was made for me
Gratefully I play some beats & I'm great to these
Then gracefully I say my peace & I pay by ceasing
Soon as the beats over my feet go up
Then the boom of the beast flower will keep go'n' up
& dissipate into the room as when trees smoked up
Choked up when I'm finished 'cause all I see is hope bruh
Blessed be my soul for this gift of music
I just hope somebody listens to it
& since you did I'm infinitely indebted to ya
All credit due to the people I'm being better through ya
Who'd of knew the dude'd do it weller
Hella sweller mellow fellow turned super teller
Newer fresher beauty mesher who knew fewer's extra
One boy turned man on a huge adventure
From kid to grown up these rhythms have been my loaner
Of company, lovely how they'd come to me, many sunk in deep
Hungry I would hunt for beats, when something sweet my rhyme empowered
It was the will of a higher power that I could flower
This life of ours is precious let's take advantage
& explore our gifts turning hobbies into more than it
Of course I'm quick to simplify what is in my eyes
It just seemed to make sense when I did, know why?
Bridge
I don't wanna do nothing but write these songs
Feels like when I do I could right my wrongs
Because, I ain't no perfect soul
You could hear that in words, how the verses go
So badly wanna believe in the pearly gates
But the real heaven' here on this Earthly place
While I, while I learn from
The things I bring and bring when I sing and sing and sing like…
Chorus: 8 bars