[The Private Sector.]

It's that time of the day And the day of the week Where my mind goes awry (So long, sir) And my heart starts making the wrong turns Cross eyes, ten and two [Atomic Number] cross Eyes, ten and two Cross your heart, Or don't (Goodbye, sir) Goodbuy, good sir I just bought a pony, I want a fruit roll up My internet due tomorrow (Go finish the album) I just want donut Good morning Hot topics I've got much more to show for it than you're onto. Than you're onto Than you're onto— Honest. Don't stop there, dog. (Atomic Number) Thats no crosswalk Purchase you for favors For favors For flavors Four flavors, are there But I've only got my whole eye on one of them What up then Don't call the number Oh, God damn Go run, Pharoh for you want an arrow out of your head Free hand and heart I thought I was a musician, —I'm not though; I stand 44 stories tall When I stand right behind you, Shadow. Small man I love McDonald's I got a long hat I got along swimmingly with your mom and dad, huh Data data projects and the atomic number That's all folks Data projects and those atomic numbers Cosmic stardust, they all shook They ain't lie, that's a hard pink turn purple They ain't lie, God, that's a mellow yellow saxophone there— They ain't lie, god, brought tear to an eye where there are no more, Heart took a wrong turn They ain't lie, God, It is bright plumb Are you in a black hole or what? Are you shook for stars and all bout dollars? Are you sure that had my name on it? Are you sure, or are you all talk All you sure, mom? Call the doctor. Are you sure at all, at all, at all about what you all wrote I'm on the 44th floor staring off, Dad. Straining heard, though— Had my eyes closed and my mouth sown permanently shut / sh it Is that your industry or something? Is that your window out my car door? Is that your hand over no heart at all— But a chest stuck out; Bring you down real fast when I've been humbled. Goddamn, when's this song over? When they tell you about God, God And all you do is turn your back, God, Are you good, or bad, God, If all I have is in this Target cart So I crunch numbers, Fall in black hole songs, atomic number—- It's just that time of the day And that day of the week where I call out Into the sound stage Reaching back, Into my alter, Rocks in my pocket And one at the Plaza One year only, One whole summer One whole novel, 10 movies, more songs, Light candles and hard rock, Nirvana Soft porn, No dollar bills, No ballers, — I struck rules and struck diets, Followed often around like I own something I just might be, What they call —Ten more songs! (A poet.) —And a whole bunch of unfinished— NO— Cut to: fade in/ Fade out— Whose line is it anyway? I ain't got no teleprompter! Fresh out of water, and Blocked from purchasing on Amazon market cause Something is wrong with my name Or observations I once made About being scammed by the monopoly Oh, polyamorous polyaddixt, polysexual Polygons, on PolyGod, God only— God ain't lie, It was plum, Closed my eyes to confirm, God, Can't conform, God. Atomic Number. I can do ten more before sundown; before I'm so over tired from espresso bean coffee, All about a dollar, I was— Everything I want in my target cart So I sure don't, For sure don't, Ever, On God, Have to walk in the supermarket on Stuggle mode Slow down, posh. [The Festival Project ™] {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. Telesynthesis