Larro Wannah - Letters from T.S. Elliot (Burnt Norton) lyrics

The silent drifter, twist the ganja let the genre hit ya Scriptures that I conjure lift the somber when I wander witchya With ?? upon whats beyond your thoughts surprising Realizing that what we're taught is just a course that we've been driving Arriving at a fork but you walk the path less taken Hasting to the shores where familiar doors were waitin Or you're chasing the cause of being driven towards the slaughter house And what blooms in the fields of the farms you never thought to plow Who walks throughout the route trail blaze through the thick weeds Cuz who needs a railway that'll pay to these rich thieves A sick greed that'll feed off of the powerless Towered over our brow while we bow in our cowardice How is this a future that we're leaving our lineage Oblivious compounded, drowned and surrounded by idiots Insidious it seems but our dreams are really anchored ships That barely drift from harbors staring ?? in our anxiousness And thanks to this our port side is just a vacant spot Tied to where we been, we slowly begin to hate the dock I break the lock on the manacles that I'm shackled to Give view the radical, an animal and in capsule due True collateral fanatical want a capital coup But it grew to gradual, an admiral who had no actual crew ??? that never had the hopes to float Soaking the problems sunk to the bottom of an ill gotten moat Woke to the an*l greasing of a holographic universe Soaked in painful secretions out the hollows of my human worth Consuming hurt, fly with from ashes of deceased Cycles repeat the pa**age in the a**es that were greased A feast for caskets, ask the asterisks to explain it better Weathering stormy mornings during mornings of this rainy weather Whether or not a plot that's yet to be determined So to be or not to be is regrettably undetermined If heavenly under burden then you'll never be the person that is working steadily to free from peasantry sub version But you'll never see the curtains lift, peepin eyes and all its pertain Its circumvent to mirage sabotage by your own turbulence A permanent barrage of "f** my job and the slobs I serve" Emerge from the fog when I flog the false gods I purge I'm mobbin words with God inerged to articulate Obliterate the force when the bars of the prison shake I'm chasing stars but got placed them out my reach Teaching me be about the route of all the doubts I keep The clout I seek, to speak loudest off the mountain peak A keep to the valley that allows me to count the bouncing sheep I found no peace in this speech that defines the wise Cries echo deep, when all we do is teach from lies I reach for skies but realize that I'm tied to chains So my pain ignites, taking flight off its rising flames In times of change to blame the long range of winter Its how the world ends not with a bang but a whimper And to the last of the phase of this age, no one can tell me sh** Cuz I'm fit for this wasteland, take a stand like T.S. Elliot [x5] Distracted from distractions by distractions Distracted from distractions by distractions Distracted from distractions by distractions in systems of abstraction the prisons that will trap them [x8] This is how the world ends [x8] Not a bang but a whimper