[[everything I wanted.]]

Never felt so alone1-
But got God on my shoulder
She's got art on her;
Better send him packing.
I'm not asking you for a favor
I'm not asking for anything l l
Call it a theatre or maybe insanity
Cathedral or sanctuary, actually
Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l

Be between the lines
Can't imagine what I'd find in you.
Cover my eyes
Is it over yet
Calling me out
Or I'm over it
Under the Sun but another one,
Wonderful world is unconscious
The come up from nothin is morally deceptive
Almost loveless, unless God exists

Unless I'm God again
—wait, who is this
Houdini?
Another stream of conciousness.
Another scream,
Another seemingly endless dream
Or nightmare, of circumstances if
Circles dance in corner's
The coroner's report read: m m m
A chain reaction,
A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally
I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen
I stand corrected;
God bless your blue eyed girlfriend;
As if God already hadn't
Having fun yet?

Never have an never did
And I couldn't never wish on falling stars,
Cause I don't believe in them,
A symptom of a syndrome,
Paliondrome, a solar plexus
Another social deficit—
‘At least he's not in special Ed'
An inspiration
On your mark,
And on my honor
I'm still partially retarded
But you started it, God
What an awful deposit
I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk
And not exist

Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm—
I gawked at what I thought was a fararri.
But it's not, it's a Porsche
And I still want it —m m —
What if all I want was
All that you were born with
And all I ever worked for was
Something that just happened
What a trip
What inequality is
Tranquility, nah fuck it
Born and bred Brooklyn,
And stopping on Sutphin,
Taking to Satan
Crushing his cigarette
Yes, I remember
I'll always remember
The infinite immigrants
Multiple languages
And how I hate
Cause I just speak English and Spanish
And music
But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross
But I'm focused on fitness

WTT is this dude wearing

A Muscle shirt

Uh huh

With no muscles

Okay

Some— what are those—

Dry fit swimming trunks

Lol

And—

Oh shit! With matching crocs!

HAHA.

Even the socks match!

He is luxury.

For certain.

Take it easy;
I'm up in a tree—
But you can't see me

If it don't make money;
Then the can't make time

Fuck Brooklyn
Too many white girls
I should stay out in queens;
Where everybody is a nigger like me—
And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King,
Chowing down on a pizza
Like fuck it
Nobody loves me,
I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life
If she looks at me one more time all spiteful
I'mma die tonight
—but at least I'll die an idol
Or icon
Come on, God—
Why you follow me
Looking like a blonde
And I'm just a hippopotamus
Never woulda thought of this
If I didn't have my heart
In the bottom of my pocket
Next to pocketbook,
I keep instead of wallet,
Full of business cards
Just another day at the office
Demoted from Equinox,
—but all the dollars go to the number one
Anyway

“Don't get hit by a bus”
That's all that God told me.
Before she ran off

It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was

Put your hands around my neck —.
I'll sign all the proper paperwork;
This is my consent,
Consignment, or resentment—
Never would have guessed
For a pleasure better than this.
Cross it off my wishlist
Sealed it with a kiss,
I might remember to forget
If you forgive
Me

Hunger with a pitchfork
I love to love New York
I was a big fish in a little pond before
Get the picture;
Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger
Better yet a shark
It's better after dark
I love you harder in the car—
Be careful,
(((Fear)))
Why'd you have to be a star?
Why'd you write love on your arms?
Are you a martyr

Here it is again,
The infinite sadness
Rush hour— Manhattan
And I never had it
So trapped in my mind;
Rewind just to find
The cue point
It's you right?
Cupid, or Balcazar,
Whatever you are
Whatever I was
Whatever

Here it goes again
The automatic writing
The undercover cops
In New York
Are up to something
What is it

I'm having a really hard day;
I'm having a really hard time
I'm having a really hard time—
Yeah, I've lived a really long life

Sometimes the truth is just.lies,
Sometimes, I can't close my eyes
I'm having a really long day
I'm having a really long life

I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself

‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?'

‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.'

Deathwish>< Secret President

I beg your pardon?

You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now.

So what's your excuse for keeping me around?

You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here?

I—don't care.

Are you drunk?

No, I'm unconscious

Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless.

It's a trap.

It's all a trap.

I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori

Now I'm confused
(I'm so confused)
Now I'm confused
I'm so-confused
Now I'm confused
(I'm so cofused)
Now I'm
“I'm so —

What the ruck am I looking at right now?

Uhhh…..

What are you doing?

I don't know

I'm so confused
I'm still confused
I'm confused
8'm still confused
IMm so confused—
I'm still confused

Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here.

What are you doing.

Can you not

LOOK

I'm just so sick of myself
I'm just so tired of this world
I don't wanna wake up no more
No money, no problem
More money, more problems
Promise

Got a soul full of woes
Got no eyes on the prize
Got no home
And no hope for the world
Gotta go on

Still got my feet on the floor
Gotta go on
Still got no road to the coast
Gotta go on
I guess I'm still a ghost
Gotta go on
I got no love left no more
Gotta go on

Jesus Christ and all the sauce.

ALL THE SAUCE.

Not all the sauce.

I want ALL OF IT.

Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right?

I—

Check it out.

I told you the government could time travelZ.

What. So they used Skrillex to —

To do what.

UNCLE SAM
I WANT YOU—

ALL OF IT.

UNCLE SAM
—

what. What does Uncle Sam want?

Idk. The charges dropped? Idk.

If he thinks you're lying—he's lying
If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating
If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving
If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you
If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming—
If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing
Too good to be true will always have a meaning
If you think you're his only;
Then there's at least three

There's no loyalty, here
Men don't have no monogamy
Men get fed up with the same thing,
Monotony
Being a man is just making monopolies
No propositions, proposals or probablies

God got you fucked up when you're ugly
God got you fucked up for the fun of it
God might make promises,
But it's no wonder,
There's love in her eyes
But there's nothing left under
No wonder.

No wonder
No wonder

No love left
No love left
No love left
No love left
No wonder

All out of water and oneness
All out of reasons to smile
All out out running the mile
And thinking you add up to something g

No wonder

No wonder

No wonder the world's out of water
No wonder

No trophies for breaking the cycle
Unless you become one
And still, you end up in the cycle
Unlikely you'll find the one
You might as well just go back
To the one that owns you
Who's dragging your son through the mud
Yeah
But he's crying for you
No wonder

No wonder
No wonder the worlds out of water
No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you
You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here

No hope for the humans
No wonder no water was left here
The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided
The water receded
And LA was left on her own

I don't owe an explanation for this insanity
I haven't had a man in a million galaxies
It's not that bad,
Now I dress all in black
Take it back for the countryman
Nobody loves me, man.
I'm just alone and befuddled,
I wanted to love,, but—
Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless;
And there's where I've been, man

How's Paris?
I should be embarrassed,
But really I'm just regressing again,
Depressed as I've ever been,
But taking a lesson in mischievous methods
And Devious determination to get back to LA
and say
“I finally made it”,
And get my makeup on,
And my hair fixed,
And pay off my high rise apartment
Where the AC ain't on, cause
I like it hotter than heaven
Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely
Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter
Where nobody loves you
And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway
So you moved it to August
Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person,
But for some reason,
You think of them
Fondly.

—For Whatever Reason.

Fuck this.

Somebody's onto me;
Wrote a letter to God,
But God's not answering
Trust me,
You don't want this ugly thing
Under you
Don't offer me a house key
If you give a mouse a cookie;
You probably outta poison it
Oh!
In a world of smoke and mirrors
Everything gets clearer, clearer

He really is rare though,
Really— a limited edition
Genius, Edison
You don't deserve him

I don't want to be the president,
Don't want to be the President

Hey,
Oh!
It's still hell here;
I'll never be perfect
Can starve, but won't be there
Woah!
It's trauma every night
And
Drama every morning
This is not a warning
It's a lesson that you're learning
And a song that you're writing;
You can't write this wrong, no—
You don't belong in this world,
So get off it

Oh,
Woah,
I don't do this often
But I just don't want to go home,
That's just loveless
Ten broken marriages,
Coffins and caskets
And lions and scarecrows—
He won't take me back for this basket
I don't wear a bonnet
I'm done being honest!
It doesn't get you ahead in this
Better off dead and
I'm still just a nigger—
I've always been lost;
But I've already been here
I've already been here

Caught it on camera, eh
Undercover tape recording
Never in the locker room,
But never in my own roomX either
I'm just another one of those
Broken,
Homeless
I don't want to
I don't want to
Want to be the President

YOU CONTROL THE POLICE—
—I RUN THE AMBULANXE,
BITCH,
I RUN THE AMBULANCE
BITCH,
I RUN THE AMBULANCE

Fuxk a phantom
Fuck your Grammy's mammogram
Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance
You're just the ops,
I run the ambulance!

I just saw
Johnny wirh the two dogs,
At the shop and shop
Pop-pop,
This ain't no pop-up,
lol
My whole surfboard is taller

This is what you want

This is
This is what you want
This is what you want
This is
This is what you want
This is what you want
This is
This is what you want
This is what you want
This is
This is what you

Don't waste your time
Asking for adderall
They don't want help for you—
MedicicineMa meant to destroy you
All the black skin
In the streets
In the shelters
On the trains and
On the busses
The niggers on seroquel
They will not help you
They want to kill you

Don't take the medicine
If you have black skin
They will not help you
They want to kill you

Adderal, xanex;
It might be addictive—
But those with blue eyes
Are the only ones who get
—they don't even need it
They turn around and sell it

If you have black skin;
They'll give you seoquel
They want to kill you;
You'll think you're all better
But you're out in the streets, in the gutter
Talking to yourself
Pissing on yourself
Scratching off your black skin-
All because you're colored!

If you look like Elohim,
Go ahead, take the medicine;
Yes, you'll feel better;
You'll get to work with Skrillex
They'll give you an amphetamine,
So you feel less pathetic
Finish projects,
Transcendence

Don't take the medicine
If you have black skin
They will not help you
They want to kill you

But if you've got black skin
You're only a nigger/**trigger to them
Take the medicine
To kill you faster
Kill you faster

Finally an ever after
That makes sense to you bastards

{Enter The Multiverse}

[The Festival Project.™]

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ©

-U.