Commitment.

Commitment is over-rated.

Your better off committed to a mental institution than to be committed to something that's driving you crazy.

...Bitches be trippin.

I try to hold on...

You're just as fucked up as I am baby

and maybe even further gone

I try to hold on 

but you just fall right thru my hands.

I always fall for the fallen angels

searching for the promised land 

I try to hold on
but you just fall right thru my hands.

I'm gonna grow a garden.

Im gonna grow a garden

burn your money up in smoke

I'll laugh at your illusions

and I'll take another toke

 

I'll build my house on sacred ground

nothing but family all around

living simple, one day at a time

Ain't got no reason

but I got a Ryme.

Fuck.

Fuck your money

Fuck your status

you can keep your wealth and fame.

Fuck your Gods

and your nations

It's all just a fucking game.

Fuck your Education

Fuck your fancy clothes

Fuck your plastic blonde-haired Nazi Jesus

that you claim to know.

Fuck your guns and badges

Fuck your bombs and wars

Fuck your flags and institutions

nothing but Love can even the score.

The Choir Master of the Mind.

Music is a medium 

a portal 

channelling energy from within and without

drawing from the gyration of the spheres.

Where there is Peace

it flows like a river to the sea

but where there is chaos

a minor chord is struck

and the chorus is dissonance.

Rythym, Harmoney and Ryme

within a measure of time

the dance of notes around a beat

spaces between sublime

The empires are built and destroyed to the melody and time

of the Choir Master of the Mind.