Tuesday, April 24, 2012

I Am, What You Smoke

I don’t care, about your get rich schemes.

And I don't care, if you can't even breathe

Because your taking up, good oxygen for me.

And I don’t care, about all of the fleas you claim you can't get off your back,

And I don't care about your broken english, slinging around - because this and that is all "wack".

And I don’t care if you can't see me

I don’t expect the growth of your currency

Because your worth has deplieted, you are just speedin' because you think it's apparent to be like me.

And I don’t care, if you put in the effort.

And I don’t care if you think that’s it worth it.

I don’t care about the hotbox sceen, because there is nothing about me you can put on the screen.

The actuality of me, to your surrealism if a little off kilter, so go smoke some more weed and try find me

In the clouds that evelope your world, get lost in it. Try and find me in it. I'm a fade in and out of it.

No comments:

Post a Comment