Second class dreams

How bad does our shit seem
When project buildings are their dream
Looking through that 3rd world screen
Hoping to be
Second class eventually
Hoping to sit a second in class
Events controlling
Can’t tell me they free
Physically or mentally
Maybe spiritually
May the spirit contort the
Ugly place we calling reality
They throw that word real at me
Running drugs through the same slums keeping your people in the gut-
Go to sleep at night gut hurts
What’s new
Who knew
That what’s knew or what’s known
Can blow what’s grown
Out of control to control concords
Such a con in accordance
To what’s more fuck less
That’s more or less
How we moor the less
That’s more than death


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