| Where those two walls and that ceiling meet
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| Where you’ll be peeling me from when the dreams become abilities
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| The trilogy of growth, I’m at the second level
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| Where every word is special and I’m lost inside the echos
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| So when it settles I touch that third stage
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| I shut these mental shackles and blast my way out of that birdcage
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| Earthquake signifies an active foundation
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| Its got the posture aching keeps my head out of these constellations
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| From this high I may identify the obstacles
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| When I get this high my head becomes a hospital
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| Voices bitching and bickering, complaining that they sick and injured
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| Bleeding and hungry (give me my tourniquets)
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| Feed 'em nourishment and included
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| With a diluted juice and bruised fruits I distributed
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| Who knew they wounds would heal so quick
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| Who knew the passion would become fashion
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| And get them fastened onto the dick (shhh)
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| Might as well have let them penetrate
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| The view from here has shook me
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| Looking at rookies that try to emulate
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| Take the time to break the rhymes down for what you gather
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| Only after will I climb to the rafters without my ladder
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| (Sole)
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| Stability, overseer, stand over, ability
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| Hover, provide contraceptive in meteor showers
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| The sky is falling, the earth is collapsing, seas freeze
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| Seize my support structure you stammer
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| I may shake up, provide shade upon your living mass
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| Granted 'em granite with a limestone trim
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| So your epicenter splinters to shambles while the lights turn dim
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| Sheep stop bellowing hug your teddy bears
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| And stand towards the light in my center
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| Cynical minds mind your master
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| It’s only a shame to live off slide landing on your backside
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| Who needs to walk?
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| You lame men spend all of your time inside
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| I see it all
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| I saw it all
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| I encase it all
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| And with all my power they should have built more columns for me
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| The ball still rolling
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| There’s only two pins left brother
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| With above or upon, I promise to always provide some cover
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| Quit breathing so much
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| This ain’t comfortable for me
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| But I was more affordable than the ones they built in the early 90s
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| Oh my, look at those memories, listen to them complain
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| Some bitch about champagne
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| Others talk about how they should have took the train
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| Regardless of your stature, status or economical bubble
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| I’m still on top of your world even if it’s a pile of rubble
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| Dripping through (Dose One)
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| Dripping through (Slug)
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| Walking On (Dose One)
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| Walking On (Slug)
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| Hanging From (Dose One)
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| Hanging From (Slug)
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| Peeling Off (Dose One)
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| Peeling Off (Slug)
|
| (Dose One)
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| What in the name of human built these ceilings?
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| How industrious it must have been
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| Awful continuous to span those reaches and rings
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| Not a wall empty space, only between
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| No corner, ceiling, the lid perceived on a system of physical laws
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| How high, height being among the first three
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| You can’t touch it goes on to stretch an unexplainable
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| Linear roof of instance
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| To relative for shelter
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| Its protection purposes our challenge to existence
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| Hold, will it hold?
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| And for how long?
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| With such holes tearing into nowhere
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| Justifies nothing we define
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| Or travel as fast as to distinct
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| To make it vast it surrounds our absolute upper limits
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| Our reference comprises are synchronistic
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| Tock, tick tock, thank it for your fears
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| And lows know if it starts or stops
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| Tick tock, rest beneath the safety
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| It can only prop
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| It’s not sturdy
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| Old weep, the honorable made of tick tick tock
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| It’s above with under, in, structure and stronger than our nails, words
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| Ages, beams, any watch
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| Tick, tick, tick, tock, tock, tock, tock
|
| (Alias)
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| I’ve experienced been a witness to many happenings up to this point
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| Life and death have passed my eyes on both occasions they anoint
|
| In the beginning I looked down and I witnessed birth
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| But confined to my position I never realized what it was worth
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| I never realized the beauty it expounds and the emotions it induces
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| Never realized what true love
|
| What sometimes no love at all produces
|
| Never realized what I was going to see in my adventures of now
|
| But realized I was in for a lot of sightseeing so somehow
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| I didn’t pay much attention to the positive aspects of things
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| Only victims of stabbings and shootings to who the fat lady sings
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| They say they’re on their way out as they pass through me
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| Hoping each time they could take me with them so I could see
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| A different aspect of the world perhaps above the buildings
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| But letdown every time they told me
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| That they were not willing to take some extra baggage
|
| As they chillingly referred to I
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| Perhaps I’ll never leave this place
|
| So now all I do is sigh and think who was I? |
| But I was so misled
|
| That I only showed my interest in souls that were covered in red
|
| Now I look back and I feel that I was cheated with precision
|
| The different aspect that I had longed for was so clearly in my vision
|
| Got sick and tired of negativity and I was due for a change
|
| But never figured out that I needed not to rearrange
|
| It was all before me and I could have seen life as well
|
| Now my one-track mind has only stories that no one wants me to tell |