Conspiracy of Myth

A conspiracy, a myth, a false line of approach

Advance so we diss you dance

Roaches scatter from light in the pantses

Run round like a record intercepted

From dim tunnels into some spectrums

No prospects, as sure as death and taxes

Fertile on charred surfaces burst

Megahertz, what knocks worse

Me on the sidelines or you up first

Nothing if not insipid rips a rigid regular

Vernacular spectacular on asses

Sound in suspended color

But other than smoldering matrix

Link control panel to channel the frustrated

We revel in the decapitated

Captive with vague verbs

Since the year '95

When MC became a dirty word, chivalry

The coat on the pawn walks all over your purpose

Would we sell out if mass abundance

Came out their pockets

Lined up the corner to purchase

Perhaps if only for the five cent price

And the lack of vindication

Many play messenger, so use discretion

Relapse is winning just to look who's running

In a race standing still

These words are all I have to offer

The author lost in his thoughts, a walking New Yorker

Covered in ash behind the crash

With an open gash I stagger

Behind every eyelid there's a dagger

The antagonist never agonizes

Compulsive, they said hit him with the voltage

It was repulsive, the vultures

Fighting impulses and missing posters

Are you sure what you're fighting for

War with a cinematic score

The cries bore a painful repercussion

Blows crushin'

Dust and debris, us in the wee

Plus it doesn't matter

Cause the symptoms show much later

In the greater scheme of things

The things that seemed most important

Aren't what they warranted

Tormented screams make the extremes seem unreal

I'm walking through an open mausoleum

And seeing the frames peeled

I arise out the disguise of a kabuki dancer

Flying from the ceiling to the stage in front of your eyes

Calm with a prize, breathing

Conceiving reason from seasons

Days and equations I made in a maze

I lay to a page that turns into sage

Guides my ways out a cave that meets with the sun

I slide on my shades, beats pop like grenades

And since Priest mentioned the tragic day

I say they pop like AKs overseas in a desert breeze

Hidin' in trees tryin' to find keys for the he's and the who's

While me and my crew's burn a bit

Gettin' back to life, makin' shit sick

Alva Hitchcock back with a twist and pitch

Wh-wh-whoa, strike, throw up your mitts

Everybody give it up with a pump of the fist

While we dump out the gift, dunk swish

Game locked, your clique

Tsk tsk, sunk ship