Flox

A song I made for a music video in my Senior Seminar, Digital Video.
Vocals are done by me, and the whole thing is original. Enjoy! ^^

<a href='https://theartistunion.com/tracks/e0a1c5'>Download for free on The Artist Union</a>

Barrier

First off; 
Instilled in me the pattern of a cursed one. 
That free will? 
Nothing but the wishes of a jerk off. 

I see still that green moon recede behind the first sun, 
I keep still. 
The journey has been nonlinear, 
And hurt some. 

Gerbil in a gilded cage. 
Fertile thoughts reveal its rage. 

This lifestyle;
That winding road, 
Her love and my design in code. 

I want for what is lost, 
An urge that draws upon the cost. 
A curtain closed around me. 

As I found the end had started wrong. 
I am the child and the result. 
I am the mind become the skull, 
I am the flesh that cradles bones, 
The bones and what amounts to voltage. 

I'm so sick, 
My soul licks the flame, 
Walks beside me, 
The smoke sticks to symbols of a poison ivy trail. 

As the boy inside me fails,
To conjoin almighty 

I enjoy the nineties. 
Final thoughts are void of psyche. 

Praise what joy can find me. 
Writin' up the poise that rightly 
Holds my head higher
Dead to rights I take this voyage shyly. 
Make flowers bloom or die, 
A hard truth in this state of mind. 

I am not of healthy mind, 
No matter what you tell me, 
What I tell myself, 
I fell behind 
Was captured by the felt tip, 

Leads my body to its meltin' eyes, 
I match what I am selling now. 
Captured in this hellish time, 
My character in belts is bound. 
Holy shit, 
Crows and folk open my brainwaves and get numb. 
Close it likity-split. 
Quick. 

Put on airs, 
Puff my voice up and quote Lynch films. 
I hope the pinch will, 
Awake me from my waking sit-still. 
Gets killed, 
Or dies young from growth of foreign bodies in this foreign body, 
God is in the 
Paparazzi 

Parties for the death of thought. 
I'm grateful that the sense was worn
The threads were tattered graciously, 
I'll make it through this mental storm. 

What precious force still left to think is spent on chores. 
I let it coalesce until I've said it all. 

This pencil porn. 
The stress I've drawn from questions that request a pause. 
A sensible attempt at more. 

 Make flowers bloom or die, 
A hard truth in this state of mind.

2 Q 1 7

Make Flowers Bloom

produced by wheels
remix by DJGCAT
bars by waffle house
samples by thighpaulsandra bullock

KING APE'S JAZZ FUNERAL (CHOPPED & SKEWED REMIX) FT. WAFFLE HOUSE

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KING APE'S JAZZ FUNERAL (CHOPPED & SKEWED REMIX) FT. WAFFLE HOUSE

Vorpal Gat

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