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letra de fight for flight - allone (usa)

i guess it’s best to attempt to address something since
i need to -ssuage enraged -ssumptions quick
if i don’t subscribe to your prescribe head-sp-ce-shuttle-trip
that doesn’t give illegitimacy to my plot’s plotted points that i’ve come up with
i confess i’m more impressed when -ssessing checks on my bucket list
and i have less sense of seductive hints and subtle scents
of every dime a dozen pitched any penny-lincoln-logged
in the immensely well-off’s pungent wishes
i push off from the port of my porch, step into the sun and squint
my dimples typically tend to imitate the follow this
i manage to magnify magnificence
and pocket every possible positive
i fondle fondness when my optimist’s opulence
obvious proper posture is glimpsed
my mantra is “never stop or drop the chin
like an ostriches, keep it up like a dogged
attempt at a barbell lift, not to acknowledge solemness
and wallow in awful monstrous hollowness”
thus i went ballistic when i read statistics written:
“six percent of questioned american’s polled told that living is placid and dull”
i roamed the poles, north and south, and globe had yawned and formed a mouth
actually repulsed, it angrily reb-tted “six percent of u.s. , yes the acronym are null”
all this negativity is getting sickening…”well where’s the healthcare?”
for my personal welfare i tell their h-llish stares
“i’m moving on, cause you’ve truly got to put your foot down to get elsewhere”
i belittled this syllabus’ sinister silliness, ridiculed this curriculum
disinterested, dissatisfied, maddened by my saddened life i evicted it
it’s a stratified system which i decided to give a whiff, it answered with
a restricting sobering stench of a prison’s whims
i stole the sickle bent silver spoon from the privileged
simpletons. dipped it in, sunk it steeply in the cement and then
shoveled with a desperate grin that the desolate get, drenched in sweat
cynically, openly, rhythmically, soulfully, in the dirt catalyzed i dove for weeks
agonized i wrote on sheets, ebonized with poems i preached
dug with microphones then speedily fled
ran for my life so i could run my life with no need to offend
but ultimately in my hopes and dreams’ defense
i don’t need a penitentiary, i only need the pen
i excavated intense through six feet in the dirty depths
that’s a grave made for each percent of men who’ve yet
to recognize that life is just for them
i wrote this hole for me intended hopefully to feel wholly blessed
i houdini retreat from this white collared straight-jacket with no regrets
but so my egret wings can spread, i can dream with my hands hemmed
behind my back but i need to get release from bed to do more with these sheets i wet
to describe what breeds inside my head. april first i lost an idol, grandfather and friend
and i promise honest, on his honor, i’ll never be idle again
i promise: honest, on his honor. i will never be idle again

- allone usa

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