[video=youtube;uCEeAn6_QJo]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCEeAn6_QJo[/video]
I sit here
While doing nothing.
I think, I question,
While waiting
For the answers.
People these days,
They hold no grasp.
Not to be misanthropic
Or loathing.
But take a sugar cube
And step on it.
And the ants will come.
Play
A
Tune,
Blast
A
Chord;
The
Ants
Will
Dance
Until
They
Die.
If
I
Were
To
Take
One
Simple
Beat
And
One
Image
And
Slam
It,
Certainly
All
The
Ants
Would
Swarm.
Hold
Onto
Anything
That
Could
Bring
Back
The
Rest.
They
Are
Memories
Never
Forgotten.
They
Are
The
Past
Trying
To
Be
The
Future.
We
Are
The
People
Of
The
World,
The
Right,
The
Proud.
Gun
Down
The
Ignorant,
Bring
Out
The
Loud.
Sloppy
And
Insignificant,
Suffocating
With
Dogma.
I
Welcome
You,
Sophistry,
Come
Into
My
Arms.
Burrow
Through
The
Mountain,
Blow
It
With
Dynamite.
I’ll
Just
Keep
Going
Until
I
Fossilize
Like
A
Cracked
Trilobite.
Hopefully,
I’ll
Get
Rediscovered
As
A
New
Species,
A
New
Genus.
Like
A
Big
Black
Monster
With
Tits
And
An
Eight
Foot
P*nis.
Then
I’ll
Climb
To
The
Top
And
Bury
The
Rest
In
The
Snow.
I
Am
Holdin'
Onto
The
Past,
Blinding
The
Future.
I'm
Caulfield,
I'm
The
Great,
Gatsby
The
Innocent.
I'm
Atticus
The
Nonchalant,
Listen
To
My
Undertone.
I
Have
Lots
Of
Brains,
Lots
Of
Spine,
But
I
Don’t
Got
Bones.
Carry
Me
Through
The
Caves,
Past
The
Sodomites
And
Devils.
Help
Me
Get
Into
That
Parabola,
A
Journey
Of
You
And
Me.
The
Curve
Will
Never
Straighten,
We
Will
Never
Stop.
Sh*t
On
Those
Who
Climb
With
Eight
Legs,
F*ck
Them
Dead
And
Move
On.
I
Will
Be
On
Your
Back,
Whispering
Every
Move
Until
You
Wretch
And
Writhe
And
Fling
Me
Off.
Then
I’ll
Just
Get
Back
On
And
Dig
My
Nails
Deeper
Into
Your
Broken
Spine.
The
Precision
Is
Needle-thin,
Tuned,
Fine.
Only
One
Way
To
Go
Now.
Through.
While doing nothing.
I think, I question,
While waiting
For the answers.
People these days,
They hold no grasp.
Not to be misanthropic
Or loathing.
But take a sugar cube
And step on it.
And the ants will come.
Play
A
Tune,
Blast
A
Chord;
The
Ants
Will
Dance
Until
They
Die.
If
I
Were
To
Take
One
Simple
Beat
And
One
Image
And
Slam
It,
Certainly
All
The
Ants
Would
Swarm.
Hold
Onto
Anything
That
Could
Bring
Back
The
Rest.
They
Are
Memories
Never
Forgotten.
They
Are
The
Past
Trying
To
Be
The
Future.
We
Are
The
People
Of
The
World,
The
Right,
The
Proud.
Gun
Down
The
Ignorant,
Bring
Out
The
Loud.
Sloppy
And
Insignificant,
Suffocating
With
Dogma.
I
Welcome
You,
Sophistry,
Come
Into
My
Arms.
Burrow
Through
The
Mountain,
Blow
It
With
Dynamite.
I’ll
Just
Keep
Going
Until
I
Fossilize
Like
A
Cracked
Trilobite.
Hopefully,
I’ll
Get
Rediscovered
As
A
New
Species,
A
New
Genus.
Like
A
Big
Black
Monster
With
Tits
And
An
Eight
Foot
P*nis.
Then
I’ll
Climb
To
The
Top
And
Bury
The
Rest
In
The
Snow.
I
Am
Holdin'
Onto
The
Past,
Blinding
The
Future.
I'm
Caulfield,
I'm
The
Great,
Gatsby
The
Innocent.
I'm
Atticus
The
Nonchalant,
Listen
To
My
Undertone.
I
Have
Lots
Of
Brains,
Lots
Of
Spine,
But
I
Don’t
Got
Bones.
Carry
Me
Through
The
Caves,
Past
The
Sodomites
And
Devils.
Help
Me
Get
Into
That
Parabola,
A
Journey
Of
You
And
Me.
The
Curve
Will
Never
Straighten,
We
Will
Never
Stop.
Sh*t
On
Those
Who
Climb
With
Eight
Legs,
F*ck
Them
Dead
And
Move
On.
I
Will
Be
On
Your
Back,
Whispering
Every
Move
Until
You
Wretch
And
Writhe
And
Fling
Me
Off.
Then
I’ll
Just
Get
Back
On
And
Dig
My
Nails
Deeper
Into
Your
Broken
Spine.
The
Precision
Is
Needle-thin,
Tuned,
Fine.
Only
One
Way
To
Go
Now.
Through.
