*words in italics are my lines, everything else was done by a friend.* Running away from confinement and the locked steel door of a human bird cage. Physical freedom is much needed in this so called free country and I'll gladly sit on a fallen tree before a piss stained police mattress. Just call me river, 'cuz I just gotta run free, don't damn me, I'm a wild child livin' in a one horse broken back nothing town. To screw & neglect, beat and reject, all you do is bring us down... We're the energy rhythm that flows through all youth and a threatening image for old eyes. If I was sorry you'd know I'm not a drug and I'm not a thug I'm the moth craving light and the middle of a flight. Can you stop tapeing our mouths shut and start cracking minds instead of skulls? Handcuff yourself to me. after a couple weeks you'll see There's more to this defect than a bad up-bringing and old hippy singing. Tattooing a page with a word or words that were audibly blocked in my line of sight. oh, why do I feel such a confidence in rhymes? Volumes can be spoke about a man who refuses and chokes on the bloodline spittle, crawling like critters away from our seeds. Slide or slip or...yah know, into the bright calm after hillside evening glowness beautitude, we wish to exist so so continually, yah know... Just go with the skip along in these ever-so "yah know" going flows of timeline rivers. by James Alexander and Jaas Yakobowski
i'm not sure if its because i already knew that this was done by two of you or what but i can easily imagine this being put to music. it has got a really good flow to it.
