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Yeah, who sparked the wicked and then jumped up to grab it?
Must have been one of them Compound boys responsible
Always so enchanted by near death or accident
We used to consider ourselves unstoppable
Well, these days I just try to rearrange my life in a way that makes the odds anyone wants to stop me less probable
Humbled by the knowledge at the end of the day I’m just a twig in the winds of a hurricane with a four-thousand-mile radius
And if God is away on business
It’s only because these days, the clients, they
They come in abundance
They cold call the operator on a nightly basis
And they’re constantly surprised by the tone of the correspondence
When night after night it’s the same saga
Plugged into the module, memorize a Frank Sinatra
I bet a Nina Simone emerge with a dirge for every murder victim to be returned to the eighth chakra
This is a modern-day opera
A dramatization that unfolds over food, water, and oxygen
I don’t need to know the local parochial doctrine
I just want to survive and always have a set of options
Instead I got this insomnia
Overcame the typhoid just to be undermined by the cholera
Gimme a God better fit to handle material phenomena
This one’s shootin a little wild
All the way out from Andromeda