Real.
Real,
Because what's the point of the illusion.
What's the point of tryin to stick all the pieces into a choking mold with sweet talkin preachers and Revlon make-up.
Cause you are looking for concrete realism but the concrete reality is that the concrete of your mask suffocates the real you inside and underneath all the 'show' walls you're living in.All the fake mansions you've been building.
Don't have a problem with us havin issues.Nah nah it never occurred but I've got a great deal with us trying not to face em, not given em a lil gardening snip.
Come on foreal folks.Now take the tip.
And this is raw, this is real.Wanna mirror Your actions and this ain't how I really feel.Wanna put things together by rippin it apart.Wanna claim I follow Jesus but oh God I've got a lukewarm heart.
I asked You for ya eyes but now I want your ears cause all I'm hearing is real dead deals.
Here I am a dead man walking.Oh God I've seen enough of that.Truly alive and well being people,I'd rather say are corpses just by considering the smell.Our hearts are platonically ill tempered,un submissive,following our own little death carts.People and their disillusionment and fake faces,calling it 'The Art.'
Oh God,take us from the depths.The pit of building illusional walls because we're just too scared to open up.
You know our every next step.Not that it was ever really too much of a epiphany of relevance to us.
Help us Lord to start takin real breaths.
And I know this is a real question.Oh Lord take me as I am but don't leave me where I'm at. For this is as real as it could get.













