tonight's equilibrium
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It took very little time to realize,
big mistakes materialize,
and this is a material world,
the humidity? it makes my hair curl,
and the speedometer swirls,
around and around, trying to keep up with the miles per hour,
all the while our...
patience was slipping on the banana peels,
on the wet cement, and on the ferris wheel,
I puked,
but not from the spinning,
I was counting my winnings,
well, some might call it theft,
but I was never caught, I just took the money and left,
and it made me feel like a winner,
and if I drop a dime or two in the Sunday offering then I leave the steeple a little less a sinner,
no longer a beginner,
cause I feel we've been here before,
I remember what it felt like and I don't want to feel it anymore,
behind closed doors,
all is quiet and inviting,
all is a riot and igniting,
dumpsters and starbucks,
hipsters and dumbfucks,
might chuck,
a molotof cocktail or two,
and make it a double,
the real recipe for trouble,
isn't political struggle,
or being buried beneath the rubble,
of an oppressive regime,
it's having such an easy life laid out for you, and trying to make your new clothes look less clean,
make your face look more mean,
but the real scene,
is the lack of boredom you're so scared of,
as if you cared for love,
you'd acquire a taste for it,
I gave it out to freely, and my heart, you tore it,
and left a gaping cavity,
though I brush daily,
I know my mom is going to be mad at me,
and maybe she should,
I forget what I owe her,
maybe one day I'll show her,
just what it's meant to endure these lectures,
and at this juncture,
I'm veering to the left,
and back to the right,
and I'll claim equilibrium...at least for tonight.
big mistakes materialize,
and this is a material world,
the humidity? it makes my hair curl,
and the speedometer swirls,
around and around, trying to keep up with the miles per hour,
all the while our...
patience was slipping on the banana peels,
on the wet cement, and on the ferris wheel,
I puked,
but not from the spinning,
I was counting my winnings,
well, some might call it theft,
but I was never caught, I just took the money and left,
and it made me feel like a winner,
and if I drop a dime or two in the Sunday offering then I leave the steeple a little less a sinner,
no longer a beginner,
cause I feel we've been here before,
I remember what it felt like and I don't want to feel it anymore,
behind closed doors,
all is quiet and inviting,
all is a riot and igniting,
dumpsters and starbucks,
hipsters and dumbfucks,
might chuck,
a molotof cocktail or two,
and make it a double,
the real recipe for trouble,
isn't political struggle,
or being buried beneath the rubble,
of an oppressive regime,
it's having such an easy life laid out for you, and trying to make your new clothes look less clean,
make your face look more mean,
but the real scene,
is the lack of boredom you're so scared of,
as if you cared for love,
you'd acquire a taste for it,
I gave it out to freely, and my heart, you tore it,
and left a gaping cavity,
though I brush daily,
I know my mom is going to be mad at me,
and maybe she should,
I forget what I owe her,
maybe one day I'll show her,
just what it's meant to endure these lectures,
and at this juncture,
I'm veering to the left,
and back to the right,
and I'll claim equilibrium...at least for tonight.