I'd scribble characters ink to leaf like, "There it was."
Various barriers seem to wanna bury us
The areas, I left atop a chariot
Littered with the crumbs from every touch of fairy dust
I barely just awoke and have to make it
Soaked and frozen in an ocean of my own imagination
It amazed me... meticulous with placement
The happenstance that rapping colors vapid illustrations
The day was mellow like a settled set of particles
In an arctic hold that's hard and cold; bitter; in part, it froze
A part-in role quid pro- a literal heart of gold
We wore'em for decorum with a better set of articles
Some cool links to roll up and pulls sleeves
And start to mark the paper til pages drool ink
The fuel's leaked we ran out of joules; peaked
But there's nothing you'll keep when you meet with the jewel thief yea

It's happening again
The flashing lights will pacify when fastening again
We meddling with metals when damascening again
It passed through the glass roof to fascinate again
(I feel it happening again)
(And it's happening again)

I can't relinquish the idea
Nor can I start organizing pieces of it either
I'm more the kind that's more inclined to reach into the sea of
His porous mind to pour his lines and keep what he would bring up
To mix in dishes some viscous and tinted liquids
And measure how it assists the meniscus a couple inches
I get the sense it's the way that the instruments and
The sentences that are written [are] presented to this effect and
So wages the War of Words in pages
For ages it stays ablazed in the blatant flames it was made in
It lays brazen embracing the blaze it bathes in
A layer of glaze encases the nature of what was playing
The battle's done but the was is never over
I told you it grows older but never gets any colder
A sea of light glowing with bold soldiers
That stand around the battleground over the gold smolder damn

It was just another figment
The kind that make the mind escape and race a great distance
Inside the bowl a widow with a lack of pigment
Pinching inches of the limbs until it's minced and start cinching
And it's probably worth the mention
This aint your average, everyday, ordinary dimension
Now what was taken has taken your full attention
You think, "What's in the drink?" around the sink your fingers clenching
Attempt to anchor yourself to space you occupy
You sought the guise and opted why? To pop inside the occuli
Of walkerbys that talk their mind in awkward chime
And oftentimes hypothesis about the vox populi
But what's it worth when entropy gets a hold
Statistics start to shift in a random mode of control
The living have that gift but then everything has to go
It's a business, in a sense, since the system is all ago and

It's happening again