Tyrone, You Put That Sugar Down - Party Cannon

Yaa!

These walls won’t hold them

Fingernails carved this inscription

When will they understand these ideas are lost to us?

Blanked slate, there’s only so much our minds can take

Coming face to face

They must realize they are incomplete in structure

Rendered useless, it forces forward;

a consciousness entirely ungraspable

Foreign, incomplete race

Typology is lacking complexity

Sticky fingers rake the mind, searches for the binding key

Escape to the skies, off the dusty road

Swarming facade, a menacing pyramid

Barriers collapsed, shifting sands

Vast manoveuring, a dislocated actuality

Deception

Reflected in one

Hysteria

Claims its thorny throne

Aftermath

Pierced as whole

Architects

Built its seamless eminence

Omnipotence of logic

Life has been moved against the interests of the living

Pastel smokes drifting in the haze

Our endemic is rife

Grinding a toothy man

Spreads a ring of salt

Folly ignorance

Matters are spliced

Noting anatomical flaw

Not to be released

Stuck to the man

Relapsed back to beast

Singing a song of unscripted fate

Noise inside the head;

sniffing the colours they make

Deciphering patterns inside the shapes

Numbers behind my eyes

Carnals to the taste

Sensations in the spine

Back to black

Ensnared inside a mind of limitless mistakes

Consuming in anger

Without unsurpassable amounts

Ugh!

Coming forth

Unmistakable hands

Develops to form

Oligarchical nothingness

Cerebral core

Calculating eyes

Algorithmic mind

Undeniable absolutes