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letra de private permission - kristoff krane

its time to man up and quit actin like a robot
no man goes deprogrammed in the land of covered sore spots
when comforts hand knocks on my door i keep my door locked
keep my feet planted firmly to the floor like angry warlock
and as soon as midnight strikes, the hands of time grab my neck
i sit and write like it’s the last night of my life and i pretend like
i’m fine—the problem is i’ve lost my high and
life won’t fit inside my pipe— its my psyche
i don’t think he really likes my kind, set fire
ignite my insight on the flip side
how’d it get wet?
it’s sweat, a result from the bomb threats from
whoever has my conscience in hostage
no, i’m not sick, i’m gifted and i will not forfeit
i’m pregnant with beauty—and i ain’t havin’ no abortion
i won’t cut the umbilical chord, this things enormous
i’m getting nauseous—lifeless—more or less
tortoise tucked head—itchin’, prociline doll, organs
a big almighty man scared of a little bitty critters
is in fear of that which possesses the opposite of his weakness

in my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head
in my head is plan
in my plan is a sketch
why are you always watching me?
go a head fill me in, go ahead fill me in
you got my permission
i’m not your property

my common cognitive sequence covers tracks
he’s hard to follow, sort of like antic-p-tions of
what occupies tomorrow—i walk my blind seeing eye dog—
on all hands and knees, tryin’ to squeeze the breeze tight like python-exercise the muscles of my mind until my mind pops
out of my eye sockets—ill be fine—with the sight of a c-ckeyed cyclops, find me-between-the fine line of idolized and
resentful-in denial, pullin’ my skeleton behind me—with a smile pulled over my head—cuz its messy, point my light in any direction. i fight for an entrance, a secret exit into permanence
beating death with a firm grip
i’m cracked, drenched in a waxy coat of resistance—
so, hold the magnifying gl-ss as close as you can up to my image
and when i drip into the cracks of the cement
i’m skinny dippin’—in the rushing stream of consciousness
with no life jacket on, pryin’ back the filter caps
what goes in will stay in – you can never scrub the residue
therefore, i brain storm, keep your face warm

in my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head
in my head is plan
in my plan is a sketch
why are you always watching me?
go a head fill me in, go ahead fill me in
you got my permission

i’m not your property
in my hand is a pledge in my hands is my head
in my head is plan
in my plan is a sketch
why are you always watching me?
go a head fill me in, go ahead fill me in
you got my permission
i’m not your property

i’m not your property

- kristoff krane

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