i tried dyin and would have been happy just to die tryin. drop the ball and it bounces back, about that, i thought the laws of physics didn't apply for lives, just took them, and life just fucked them. so how come when i'm not lookin i start flying, then get scared of the consequences...i eat snares and breathe percussion. i tried dyin and would have been happy just to die flyin but the earth likes to hold you close, just so she knows you know what goes up must come down but the whole time she gets to spin around...so there you go, there you come, you shoulda seen the shit she did with the sun, it was obscene, all the circumference touchin, wherever they could reach rays rubbin, and she lay prostrate, seemed to like it - insisted i watch...and you knew i'd write this cause i'd get scared of the consequences and whisper a beat...i breathe in rhyme so then when i don't speak, still heads bob. vanity is a virtue and i'm preening to perfection even though you don't understand - heads are like what's this...i'll rewrite that in longhand but still less comprehended than published.