Mid-Morning Session

Rising Son, make the bed rock up E.G’s street

Clock out by 5, I pusha T up on myself and leave in peace

Driving quietly through white lights, upon the crack of dusk

crack open my vision, playback some beats, as I vibrate the rust

I’ve been thinking about a relapse in my memory

some sorta empty space no recollection as far as I can see

Them i’m like “Fuck it, it’s gonna somehow come back”

So it’s back to the flashing stop lights-and shuffling up the tracks

and with every stop i'm in power-inn distances i seem to cover

As I see myself a Suburban University with many others.

 

The hands moving and the time zips by

droning how days pass me by

hallucinating the scenes and the pages inside I die

drowning in a fatigue I feel bounded with little ease

As I wait for the father to pass his essence, I plead him “please”

And with my offerings accepted I click back to the present

Switch out life-force with minutes passed

and it's on to the 2nd session.