It is not enough to stoke the fires with spite and tries,
while the mind is on a job working overtime
to understand how to reject
with a slight of hand
a man with a crown who can sell you lies,
when all I want to do is step into over-drive.
Going down to up-town, try to find the fix
that replaces the letdown
look for the mother’s milk from the tit
of the underground, feed the soul with the fuel,
the real make-believe floats in between
an image of a girl on the dance floor
and a picture in a magazine.
Scrub out your filters find what you truly need,
pitch back and forth until you finally cleave
to the truth that you carve into your soul
like knife to meat.
while the mind is on a job working overtime
to understand how to reject
with a slight of hand
a man with a crown who can sell you lies,
when all I want to do is step into over-drive.
Going down to up-town, try to find the fix
that replaces the letdown
look for the mother’s milk from the tit
of the underground, feed the soul with the fuel,
the real make-believe floats in between
an image of a girl on the dance floor
and a picture in a magazine.
Scrub out your filters find what you truly need,
pitch back and forth until you finally cleave
to the truth that you carve into your soul
like knife to meat.
I started singing this poem tonight and I discovered that for all its heavy tones it is an up tempo dance song - think - Prince, Janelle Monae, and late 70's Michael Jackson had a freaky funky love child.
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