metaphysical magical mysterious
pranksters makin language sound rank sir
imaginary imagery being reflected by my castings
and feet stomping out bad vibes like a banshee
and she sees the things we sing, singing things in a ring
winging it, like we never learned to rehearse or like
rehearsals were a curse, putting ourselves on the spot
cause anything else sounds much worse, and why not
because we're doing it like its meant to be done
fighting a battle that's meant to be won
the cunning son of a cunning son of a bitch
born under a full moon in the womb of a natural witch
which brings me to the next dimension, the next thing I mention:
reflection of your inner being projected on your screen with matching memes
clickbait for the soul, your end game the end goal, whole mysteries exposed!
glorious astonishing polished idols that replace you whole
have you ever asked yourself the ritualistic implications
of clicking bait rations handed over to you by nations
that have no wit for what you want, and are rewarded for your order
across the border, slaves watching slaves pretend to parody
merry melodies melodically neutral, singing lullabies opiating
the melodramatic masses amassing opinion controlled by rings
and things that people don't even believe in, rings holding things
together tying the never-ever with the global weather
if you understood the synergistics and the linguistics of the orderlies
absorbed by the quarterlies and the annual statistics, semestarial periods
separated by fake fesivals that marry disparate faiths, like its in "faith"
that we wait for christmas presents, or a mothers-day card from a relative
