Thoughts of a revolutionary #33 – lost boy

Lost boy trying to find my happy thought/thot
Maybe her brain will make me fly
Talks with Lucy might just open my eyes
That smile and that look from behind
Bell biv dovoe gave me these trust issues
Lie tissues to dry up an oil spill
Lie BP sold bought and ate cold
Block so hot hustle not so different from the stock
Markets are markets
Black, white, brown, red, yellow
Hello, good morning, wake up
Habré los ojos cuando yo
Drop knowledge
Not it to not live
Not sick that’s not it
That’s not why we’re here
Listen act like you hear
Here or there breath to bear fruit from the trees grown from seeds you sow
Reap to show it’s possible to grow
Without creating fear
They will stand their ground in a town near you
Hit you with that glass roof y yo
Just trying to rufio