This is an ode to the beverage I can profit from,
Without selling a drop, still I’m often on a violent run,
with lyrics satirical my mirrors fogged with awe in eyes,
as I try to find the meaning behind all my rhymes,
and all the time, I’m saying maybe I should try to stop.
But nothings stopping me, I’ll be a bigger better bit of broken open poetry,
And don’t you see? The ceiling’s down in front of me,
the trees are shrinking rapidly, and after we escape from these disaster freaks,
we’ll speak aloud, our words not shrouded,
proud we saw the truth and didn’t doubt it,
it’s a world of possibility, with a wicked ounce of honesty,
just promise me you’ll think before you scream that this is blasphemy,
come after me with weapons born from fear of the unknown,
I’ll disappear, you’ll be alone, with just a wretched spear and stone,
start the coffee brewing, I’ll be quickly coming home.