you don't need to convince yourself that it's easy just don't forget that it's possible

I'm sick of being afraid of my mind I'm tired of running through all these dreams of mine at seven I cowered from demons upside down at fourteen I gave up on trying to rebound for twenty one years I ran from myself but now every dream is just another brick cleared from the cell follow panther into the nexus she'll lead you through the night don't be afraid of what we all harbor embrace the void inside don't be afraid you're never really alone I'll see you again on the other side after we've both grown to be whole

Brutus loose vein and genetic mustache Jawn met Pharmathematician Pat and just sat back talking lower level triangles in linoleum-laced kitchen flats pale as white lines sprawled across ghost-like reflections of the face restricted to the limits of pseudo-hospital screenings masking the odor of decay beneath aluminum-stained bays suffocating airwaves so nothing penetrates or ventilates lost within a culture of transgression that digressed from itself into darker subcultures and deeper realms of Hell a victim numb with no escape lies vacant in the needle's eye suspicious of alleged glitches riddled with indifference it's building up useless is this infinite bliss at the expense of existence none are more blind than those who claim no vice in their life

pointed fingers trigger collapse of our smash functions as our fully automatic manic curses his own freedom long enough to swear that it's just a bunch of bullshit anyway but Georgia your sunrises over fog-covered cotton eyes and you got me thinking about escaping through yer pines to Sarasota tempers in tandem thrown at random tantrums bouncing back and forth between raging inferno and cold trickle with ripples radiating from puddles to tidal waves two pupils engaged in the sport of unfun and although nothing is perfect parables are still spit as stones thrown before those on the receiving end can mend undamaged parts an argument flawed from the start Theory of Everything whispered on deaf ears unheard by personal earthworms spoken softly to a mind unable to intellectualize forced upon a body incapable of deciphering the feeling the message I'm left a mess again the process of acceptance has come to an end at last morning pines fly across my eyes at 85 we're leaving that peace behind trading old and used for uncomfortably new but only in day dreams think I'll find something else cause this fantasy just aint fit for reality oh Georgia as your sun sets behind sleepy cotton eyes you'll have me dreaming about escape tonight through yer pines to Sarasota

D.I.Y. - what does it mean? don't imprison yourself in dependency there may be comfort in numbers but that's not what we need if we set up our own shows and release our own music what else could we do if we put our minds to it? if we focused on solutions and not only problems we'd be free to chase dreams, so let's just fucking solve em it all started with a record that no one ever heard a series of bad ideas lost to a steep learning curve from four tracks in bathrooms to digital unlimited in pro home studios from Oak's dad's basement Karlos helped us with shows, then we hit the road with patches and shirts and albums of our own Lupe made us some screens, Chris recorded us for free if it weren't for all of you, I don't know who I'd be do it yourself - don't mean you can't accept help cause nobody knows everything - a lesson high held in the eyes of experience, hey we all make mistakes why not save yerself the pain and learn from ones already made but if you gotta be a hero and learn it for yourself just remember to remember it for everybody else and if you get stuck sipping poison it's just another lesson learned that could've been avoided but choose what you will and do what you do if I'm gonna drink that brainkill, I'm gonna brew it too and if I ever get sick from eating out of the trash I won't take any toxic FDA approved crap I'll just wander through the woods foraging for a cure and treat the cause, not the symptoms to fix the issue at its core I'll even grow the herbs myself just to be released from the death grip of corporate ideology the ones we're taught to trust are slowly killing all of us with mercury in our teeth and bad recipes chem trails scar clear skies, fluoride shuts down our minds chlorine-filled tap water blinds us and dries us there are too many lies and only one escape we gotta drop out to find out before it's too late my dream is to fill in the blanks sign on the dotted line of a ten acre deed and build a home for my families of blood and idea a place where I'm free to do as I please without all the bindings of bureaucracy I'll build a home out of refuse without building codes have fests when it's warm, drink homebrew in the cold I'll be my own doctor and grow my own food selling off the excess when taxes are due I'll collect water from the rain and filter it myself use the wind and the sun to power electric cells well, if I gotta work it'll be towards release from the circular systems of machine forgery I love Dystopia, but I don't wanna be a cancer bleeding this planet of the things we all need there's balance to be achieve I hope I find it instead of more nails in my coffin - more for my homestead I just wanna live in the woods and not have to pay rent I don't mind hard work it's this indentured servitude that I can't stand!