[Run, run, run
As fast as you can
You can't catch me I'm...!
God.]
Run on, young man;
Run on
Run through the frights
Bright lights
Night life
With your eyes bright
Keeping your third eye open
(as your nose is)
Turn your pain into a sideshow
Focus on the formalities
And reconsider the antagonist
Prodigal son
Running to find your
Home[Land]
...
Promise to do the right thing
I see saints in the street
And demons in the senate
Angels now filled with angst
Also fill the unemployment line
The Devils infiltrated the church
Judging by flame and brimstone
Keeping close ears to your words
And eyes on everyone you bring home
Monitors your modesty
And pre-selects your ring tone
It gets deep
Contentedness is the cousin
Of complacence
Which we constantly conditioned to
Contemplate a minute:
Not just what the prodigal child
Runs to
But where he runs FROM
Bullets racing to one race
In particular
Ops, Cops, and Politicians claim
It ain't a crime
If you keep it quiet
I found myself on the battlefield
Stranded in No-Man's land
Left says to
Right says to
Me
"Pick a side."
...
As if love has a preference
I guess I'm runnin' solo
- 7even