[Verse 1]
A priest once told me that dogs don't go to Heaven
That's when I knew his views were flatter than bread, unleavened
Anyone who believes in literal Hell is full of sh** like seven hundred dirty diapers or an L Ron Hubbard emulator
Hell is a metaphor for what happens when you repress your nature
I think I'm part vapor, part Will Yeats, part Super Saiyan
Part linguistic matrix, part ape, and part imagination
[Hook]
With this Macbook prosthetic I feel like a cyborg
Yet this neverending story seems magical I'm Falcor
[Verse 2]
I ponder the intergalactic and induce an anaphylactic
Shock stare into the heavens and feel like man is so average
But Tat Tvam Asi guess we're like Matterhorn ma**ive
The atoms that map us are those of mantis and mammoth
But we immortalize experience with cameras and Sandisks
Seems like we've become demigods via mechanical tactics
But how many of us feel something lonely and hollow?
Maybe there's more to this than reformatting the matter
I invest in animal backflips and sorta fanatical laughter
Might be searching for an Atlantis that long ago was subtracted
[Verse 3]
A rapturous communion or contentment with the inner
Obsidian midnight guess I'm fumbling for a matchstick
Imaginary lines between Jews m**ms and Baptists
Catalyze violent loathing, zoinks, misguided madness
Until I am cadaver think I'll nibble on a different plum, navi-
Gate caverns and labyrinths with pacifistic relaxedness
Call me sacreligious but I'd like to move beyond labels
Not Catholic or American, just a being who wants a sandwich
sh** I think my politics are too organic to understand em
Like animagus Victor Vasquez shape-shifting into a rabbit
Possibly a tragic Aladdin sabotaging the cra** glitz
Or an abstract abracadabra with h*mophones and contractions
But maybe an ant in amber in a paradoxical pageant
Wondering if these gadgets have made us all bat sh**
[Hook]
With this Macbook prosthetic I feel like a cyborg
Yet this neverending story seems magical I'm Falcor