Endless Lords
eat the gentrifiers
sell some fucking albums
for just once
Find some crews
but please not gentrifiers
get them not nearst me
or me away from them
even if they are lands upon
which I bloomed.
Raw soul and rightful spirit
In the land of Soul and God.
Strong me up and guide my ways
out of this world or terra of illusion.
Egregore U.S.A,
and Soil Finn's Funeral
Old loves of brothers dry.
Rekindle a soul flame
and keep me away from
these gentrifiers and their boring stillness.
My light is coming alive again.
No nerve pains,
and real soul within,
New directions,
oh so judged by the "open minded."
Lepers, they were--- weary and heartless.
Steve Job's little hellworld
of attention craving jeckells
and low brain activity stimuli addictions.
Don't drag me down to their haste
like these writings likely infer or sound.
Just imagine hordes coming in
with their trends and rulesets and their
blank and alienating fucking stares.
They try to buy out your regions
and God, God, God, God
it's all boring.
Because my soul is too fast
and I sniff out alternating inhibitions.
My soul leaps
and I'm never being used by
gentrifiers preaching their little lies again.
My inner werewolf will devour them
before they are allowed to ever get so close again.
I'll bring the raw and the real
but its for a soul essence and never ever ever for them.
Good luck selling a ticket amongst bullshitters by that rational'e.
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