in this great blue and green hes just trying to get it right trying to get it right lover and a fighter young hung dumb dumb touch lit fires unsung someone lovesick writer rum drunk junked lungs tum tum full of tum tums insight a riot quicker than a young kid hit by an overzealous officer unaware his head is off this earth got a pistol mouth full of lead cough it up it ll piss you off regardless of misconceptions what you thought this was empowered all austined up samson pre delilah robert powell eat fire situations be dire meanwhile the blood just drips from the hour glass nose white clocks got black eyes people keep trying to beat time he ignores these signs chokes back a little smoke throws peace signs so it all seems fine watch his face in the mirror no deep lines heard of sunsets but only seen the eastside headstrong steel beam between the eyes unstoppable as steam engines long as heat rise to often he tries not no macy gray can t work an 808 and never learned a fadeaway wanted to push bricks and pave away didn t work like unemployment officers on labor day he don t believe in saviors so who could save the day bruce banner changed his name so they wouldn t say he gay the silver surfer and clark kent flew away again after they built a wall deporting all illegal aliens so with his chest puffed out he hit the kryptonite feel like he finna die cuz he can t live the lye and anytime his many minds become minimized all of his attempts at blending in get illegitamized a real boy on the planet of pinnochio muhammad bursting out of clay trying to rope a dope why he guzzle black and white liquor til he comatose drunken blissful ignorance still resembles sober hope he walks the length of noses built on lies he didnt build the bridge but he has got to take his stride moving in his own time yeah 
['chicago indie']