In and out, all these years,
Buried, kept under layers,
Philosophies of optimism, put as,
Some words, like "serious" jazz.
Words like productivity, o hell,
Sweat to define, or even tell,
They're still in pursuit of it, hither and thither,
Overlooking self in self, finding self in Twitter.
Words like normalcy, bloody o,
It's relative, be it a friend or foe,
Pointless to tag it with difference in perception,
If there is, why's there a standard tension.
Words like future, shamelessly fuck all,
Entombing self in a basket ten feet tall,
It's insanely simple, if talking brings trouble,
Then why throw self in that bubble.
Words like realization, yeah, right,
It's consequential depression, so sit tight,
Illusions aren't menacing, if to believe,
Once grounded and happy, there's more to sieve.
Words like routine, ah, blazing steam,
Aren't you bored, or just don't scream,
If dug deeper, it's for uncertainty you'll see,
And then you talk liberation while you aren't free.
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