In the closing credits -(The are no edits)

This paradigm is past its prime
An obsolete design wrongfully allowed to outlast its time
As things get deeper, they become harder to ascertain
The truth becomes white washed like withered plant life beneath the acid rain

Scars keep skin stitched together
Fighting to loosen this noose like neck tie that keeps me tethered
Doubt and disbelief are thieves that rob you of your dreams
Procrastination eludes you into thinking that trying isn’t as easy as it seems

Spine sticks out like the springs of an old tired mattress
If nothing really matters, then mother nature has to be the greatest actress
As days go by, I find love as a skill that gets harder to practice
We’re all audacious enough to believe that we’ll wake up to still find this planet crookedly spinning on its axis

Living in praise of a pantheon of ghosts
The idea of being human being written as hope in every philosophers journals and scattered notes
And every man declares ‘I Am’, while not being able to see how it contradicts the universe as a careless boast
We still wonder why out of all emotional abstraction, hate appears the most?


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