ok im gonna keep talking. as if i care.
as if i’m picturing you in your underwear.
who the fuck are you?
who the fuck am i?
don't we realize that it’s all an alibi?
for what's really going on in our heads,
what we are really thinking?
its not about the polite life we all subscribe to,
its about you and me and him,
and fucking working.
we are the captains of our ship.
we are the kings of everything.
if we had confidence in our insecurities,
and found truth in pleasure,
we could live in the moment,
even though it's not forever.
unless you write it down,
then it’s set in stone.
especially with the internet,
we are never alone.
at the swipe of a finger,
i know your persona.
but see, the thing is,
i wanna get to know ya.
so i'm gonna push the boundaries
and see how far i can get,
by acting on impulse,
and saying everything that’s in my head.
which could be perceived as a judgement,
but your perception is limited.
i just want to cut out the pleasantries
and get to the core of this shit.
calling upon our collective unconscious,
reminds us that we are all the same,
like how we all go poop-pay.
it’s true, it's written down.
it’s shitty, no pun intended,
unless i finally turned that frown upside down,
right side up, top or bottom ...
twerking has made me feel as old as Obama.
back to the truth of our reality,
everyone judges a book by its cover.
and when you release the thoughts in your head,
a real connection can finally be uncovered.