for words alone to capture the spirit, is a fool's game, they alone don't come near divine
its the magic, its the context, the master of these may approach with the sincerest mind
thats what it feels like, purity and purpose apparently are a spear through time, tools for the fearless kind
to travel the universe so dear inside, and come across new paradigms, prepare to fly
but it takes sincerity, and i fear that my self is of an impure design
i look at myself in the mirror steered with pride, i don't see my self which is weird i find, but the world doesn't hesitate to mirror mine.
not a lot of looks at what I said and make, set in place, reckoned just gotta put this in the books n meditate
its where my head is straight, the mind's eye opens, resting in bed awake
the garments of an alchemist of the mental states
surrounded with objects with sentimental traits,
careful with all the work i gotta do
careful with all the words so i drop a few,
so many traps i got in to,
i'm sure there's a theme...but now i'm just speaking like the serpent in the garden do
sellin the apple, where's the business at? say this and that, and not that.
don't look at the suit and tophat, just look at this confidence
don't pull back the curtains its common sense, as old as the culture are you incompetent?
and so today we learn not just the divine can't be spoken
but also the nature of the work I've awoken
for me its not amazing, its more of a maze thing
so complacent to lay down and sing if i feel like im the one they're praising
the full circle is complete,
i bump elbows thinking "now they know i can compete"
oblivious to the geometric lines beneath my feet
i'm more calm assured my errors are not important in the least
i'd hate to open a door in to a beast
its ritualistic but ive only got a glimpse of this intricate business