Exemption From Mortality
Exemption From Mortality
It's dark and it's bleak out.
Negative frequencies all around.
I'm not talking about a lack of light,
I'm talking about the sound.
The constant words and slurs
In pitches and tones that shake
The heart.
The nonstop tension from destructive
Vibrations that are tearing these
Nations apart.
When did it start and how does
Does this end?
I'm watching as more fallen angels
Descend.
Squandering time that is only on
Lend.
Wandering blindly through the
Wreckage of men.
The seed of life now tainted,
It's so blatant to see.
While people stay placated,
It's so obvious to me.
Life is a reaction to the
Actions that we take.
A natural attraction to
The frequencies we make.
Don't chase away the sun and then
Complain about the wind and rain.
Face the day as if you've won,
And teach each other to do the same.
The hussla's game is just a way to
Distract you from reality.
You're way off aim, if you think you
Can gain exemption from your own
Mortality.
When God spoke into darkness it was a frequency that created light.
Particles of matter forming patterns
By the will of might.
Existence by persistence is the
Evolutionary way.
I look into the distant future...
Further resistance will lead to decay.
To more of my dismay, I'm watching
Evil spread like a forest fire.
It seems that every day, the species
Deathtoll's getting higher.
I say, come what may, because we
All will get what we deserve.
I sit in darkness and I pray,
How can I better serve?
My gift of words, my tongue is sharp.
I Shepard herds, my wisdom a tarp
For anyone that seeks shelter
From chaotic rains that weigh us down.
Escape the Helter Skelter that
Only entertain's, sad clowns.
Turn that frown upside down,
And become a new perspective.
Burn that thorny crown that you wear...
The sweltering air of despair is subjective.
Self-induced affliction, sub-conscience
Decisions that are foolishly made.
Mass-produced addiction to keep the
Souls of men a slave.
The land of the brave is now full of
Cowards are controlled by a toxic society.
Running in packs, the honour they lack,
Devouring all of the resources we see.
It's really up to you and me to stop
This ignorant loop that we're in.
You can call it what you want, but I
Call these latest frequencies, sin.
Look at the muck we're all in, as more
Of our natural state slips away.
Finnegan begins again...
We're caught in a loop that must
End today.
Take to your heart, these words that
I say and maybe we will all be o.k.
I don't want a role in this play.
I'm trying to keep these Matrix agents
At bay.
Red pill or blue...
It's all up to you.
Follow the clues.
I'm here to show
You who is who.
Everything you do
Here on out, now that
These words are in your
Head.
Is going to determine
Your route, there's no
Doubt there is truth
In the words that I have
Said.
Maybe we all eventually see.
There is no Exemption from our
Own Mortality.