3rd wave

Good Monday to you, heres some more stuff I've written:

Amalgam

I'm an amalgam, a tattered scrapbook, a battered black book of names and digits
the ink fades to a lighter tone as time goes on I sit and fidget
I figure lifes blink and you'll miss it property
I'm an amalgam, a properly organised list of pastiche in a post-post modern age
where everything looks old and new at the same time so I don't know where I am
Cause I've seen it all before but I've never seen this before
infomercial spliced with folklore, they make everything seem like its too real
compound double bluff, your brainwashed with double dutch
I may be aloof then so be it but I won't put out my fire with forced meetings
meaningles small talk over cofee and down phones
too tired to appreciate my wife when I get home
we seem to forget that were free to roam
despite the ne news filter all is not lost
the sun shuts down then we rise surrounded by frost
natures still our real boss
as sure as night follows day and it surely does
I'll be regarding it all just cause I can, to make an effort to understand
in a time with no defining character, excpet that it has no defining character
if there needs to be one it isn't me, I travel too close to the sun
any effort made hateward is a selection of wasted steps
I'm an amalgam of all the music I ever heard with baited breath,
of the feeling I got when I first became aware of the cold footsteps of death on my heels
so now even when i'm running up the down escalator i'm aware its all finite
so now I care that I live right
write rhymes, 9-5 grind in the daytime, speak over beats and see my people at night
The trees were here before you made them into fax paper
the sky was clean and clear before the black vapour
you push people to the edge and back again
I guarantee they were happier before they were treated like battery hens
and not humans
it's harming your business; people off sick cause hey don't feel human
I wish I could spread wings and herald the city and say "were just humans"
and all the cars and buses stop moving
long enough for us to reflect inside and out again
even the facets were scared to bare to the open air
and so many of us will never get to be ourselves or properly know each other
and instead we pace, smothered in a steel blanket with false angles
beaming attitude and bravado for the benefit of strangers
I've been myself since i lept from stagnant socials pools like a frog post-spawn
I'd reccomend it, grab the rose/thorn combination and see the beauty in both
see the colours of fire in explosions an unending process like rocks eroding
will you still want that latte on your deathbed?
or will you realise by then that others opinions can ruin your life if they pilot your head
I think free as the air but its a matter of time before I can't use that simile in a rhyme
people read more magazines than books
and are taught to judge by looks and to buy music sold to you by crooks and art rapists
I'm sick of artificial digital representations so I keep it pen and paper, back to basics
I'll ignore the fact its all getting more like the matrix
and try to find something real to grasp as i'm ageing
forced to the fringes with internal war waging
so now I know who I am and I know who I'm not
and I wake every day with my guts in a knot
put a note to myself over beats and my dreams in a box
kept locked and long lost
I dress to my specification and push buttons for detination
you must be missing your mother; you let a stranger tell you what to think and what to wear
yeah ok then, I'm the weird one
not suited to these current social climes I spit these jibes at the hive mind
and whip out the carpet from under your feet
to say i've got beef is an understatement
its more like herds covering acres.


W.Y.H.I.W.Y.G

Its the lyricist that thinks of this, not sex, every seven seconds
poorly porposed I suppose, composed for those who hopes crave real things
gat a fondness for feelings like bee stings and morphine, endorphin withdrawals
unauthorised murals that liven up walls
with a grip on my goals and my soul I raise sword up
not for slaugter but I sure as hell wave the blade perilous
its that daily endeavour to take fate and self serious
remaining under the radar with tricks up and heart on sleeve
arms out to those who stare at them when i'm not wearing them
sometimes the ink in my tissue causes a different skin colour issue
its funny how people think they know you whne you've never spoke to them
believe you me shock value is not the intent, still has that effect
but the ink I sink is not for them
it goes: one to lay past regrets to rest, two for wngels who watch over and know me best
and I expect you'll end up hearing the rest in this prose I compose to get stuff off my chest
whenever the situation worsens and it seemd like curtains I do my best
never the less, you can be certain that life's predictable cadence tests my patience
so I warp established frameworks into the shape of something alien(ated)
keep trying to figure me out keep failing
I'm walking after dark with fat markers when its raining
repeating my phrasing under my breath I take in the atmosphere
smoke at my lips and i'm catching my death and i'm happy here
wherever here is
I keep moving on like beatniks, fearless, with ability to laugh at a near miss
I dance delicately balanced on the edge of a precipice
tearing out my throat screaming quotes at the abyss til its pail like six broken wrists
picture this

Don't pin your hopes on me I can't get my own to stay attached
if you keep an image of me in your mind i'll redefine myself and snatch it back
the frost bites at my soul til its frozen, broken and black; cracked
the chill extinguishes bridges I burnt in nervousness past
with one hand balled in a fist and the other blowing a kiss I stare back at this
unaware of what i'm aiming at in my brain I can't miss
nothing more here than me, beats I made and words I writ
its an improvised script for the humourless skits that bookend me
I choose the volumes then turn up the volume
the sound illuminates dark past paths, twisting back and bending
some of the parts neeed mending they've been out of action for too long
so I take time to seba the paradox before I move on
I shadowbox with an unknown opponent
a potent self awareness now so glaring that i'm pairing it with my own distant drums
I can't ignore it all my flaws lit up like pinball for all to see
I hope to either side of the faultline as it widens: timeless
with eyes open wide to defy previous blindness
no spite for me, I dodge that trap with a sidestep
I hold a grudge in a vice like grip, crush it to death then let it slip
like ashes falling through and hourglass
I watch til my faces matches their palour, all the colours drain and things get duller
on the set of my film i'm the tech, set designeer and focus puller
its getting beyond a joke now: no longer rhyming words fr the sake of it
cause I can look back pleased with my page and the way I decorated it
it took me a while to know how, I was gathering know how
for ages I was like "no, how is this gonna work"
but then i'm cuing in a shop and I crack a smirk cause a rhyming line hits me like its composed of coke
and i'm back to work with a bus ticket and a biro, and I now know how goes my own flow
like a waterfall back up onto the rocks I switch the gravity of the situation i'm facing til its laced with a dark wit
I spark sarcastic and spit sardonic
no time to start shit when clocks tick ominous
wordaholics anonymous

Aye aye, I spy a tired guy from fights with broken promises
back straight like atlas shouldering honesty
this is me presented honestly and its more kerouac than street rap if you can handle that
if not I suggest you take this one back
heres the haps: with one hand I pick up a pen and then with the other I take up the slack
with both I hold tenderness for a million difficult lives
in comparison to some guys i've had easy times
but I can't help that, any more than than the colour of my eyes or the colour my hair grows
I could cover up with a dye but thats lying and I'd still know
I apply that same logic to rhymes I write
kepping it real in the realest sense; honesty or nothing no seat on the fence
no time to give it a second thought when guilt spills forth from an unknown source
things get fraught
lost track of the times i've fought with myself over this
I swim amidst a mix of ignorance and bliss
clocking some girl, biting my fist like "is she real?"
but I know the deal, I got it in a backhand
like this tattered notebook held tight with elastic bands
so now I travel the land; a spliffed up drifter dodging sinking sands
A thousand narrow escapes, I drink ink and vomit a landscape
I step down to the lake with cigarette pack and some jack in a beaker
polluting my bloodstream when things are bleaker til they seem sweeter

One think I know is none of it stays the same
the shapes change and I can't remain in the same place
so I change aims and switch names and try try try again
thats me stood in the rain bending lightening to form my name:
stowaway