(no subject)
Im wondering right now if you’ve ever heard this song.
I looked up to this cavernous being that he was, this looming mess as he spat into a saxophone a microphone somebody’s ears. He wasn’t going to let you get away with it whatever it was, check this motherfucker out, he knows it. He digs it. He gets it. He dopes it. He rolls it. Spit, spit, spit. His angriest words. He releases them in a cannon, stolen straight from your motherfucking mouth. He sends sparks off the trigger finger into your eye. And you think shit, I paid fuckin money to see this shit. Fuck.
Today I watched a man grow arms. He raised them to the sky and exalted, “I HAVE ARMS” he said to me, crying, choking, I HAVE ARMS I thought
Together we made it up an incredible mountain. Nobody knew how we made it that high but anyway we did, and the view was enough to scare you into climbing further. You can beat your own physical limitations if you don’t consider the fact that you have them. Just forget about your physicality and I’m basically sure you can do anything. I have arms.
After years of it we got sick of the journey. Sometimes it happens that way. It starts as a trickle and grows to a dirty flow. Just like the spit from his throat. Just like his fucking words. He wrecks you. He destroys you.
How we pronounce the air on our teeth, for all of us its different. Gutteral noises, strange language. Words are nonsensical to this man. He has arms. He has freedom. He’s a prophet. He raises his palms towards a treetop. He says things I understand.
We found it together. We looked at the sun and felt like robots.
I looked up to this cavernous being that he was, this looming mess as he spat into a saxophone a microphone somebody’s ears. He wasn’t going to let you get away with it whatever it was, check this motherfucker out, he knows it. He digs it. He gets it. He dopes it. He rolls it. Spit, spit, spit. His angriest words. He releases them in a cannon, stolen straight from your motherfucking mouth. He sends sparks off the trigger finger into your eye. And you think shit, I paid fuckin money to see this shit. Fuck.
Today I watched a man grow arms. He raised them to the sky and exalted, “I HAVE ARMS” he said to me, crying, choking, I HAVE ARMS I thought
Together we made it up an incredible mountain. Nobody knew how we made it that high but anyway we did, and the view was enough to scare you into climbing further. You can beat your own physical limitations if you don’t consider the fact that you have them. Just forget about your physicality and I’m basically sure you can do anything. I have arms.
After years of it we got sick of the journey. Sometimes it happens that way. It starts as a trickle and grows to a dirty flow. Just like the spit from his throat. Just like his fucking words. He wrecks you. He destroys you.
How we pronounce the air on our teeth, for all of us its different. Gutteral noises, strange language. Words are nonsensical to this man. He has arms. He has freedom. He’s a prophet. He raises his palms towards a treetop. He says things I understand.
We found it together. We looked at the sun and felt like robots.