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gehennian yeti, the - arboreal lucidity lyrics

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listen, unsafe frights are present./
hidden from the mundane lives of peasants/
who would rather sunbathe twice for presence./
oxygen’s depleting./
it’s not as opulent as we’d think./
insult to injury: tabac-m vice./
some teen wh-r- is positioned on her back for guys – hurting for the thrills of a d-ck –/
while an unseen war is commissioned for an actor’s lines – working for the bills of his flick./
sad that a dryad’s death/
is the necessary evil in the manufacturing of the iconic rapper’s pad where the fire’s kept,/
but, yo, i’ll admit though:/
i love to erode a dead tree inbetween my thumb and index in my humble abode./
read a novel and your brain gets-a ticking when you stumble afloat something in text./
verbiage, maybe?/
when i’m thirty and fading – an earlier grave dig to most things –/
i’ll develop sturdier patience to coping./
hope that i am worthy to take in a loan./
“it’s not a lot./
just a guy i know from way back when, named charon, said that he would guide/
me to the habitat of dead tree nymphs for a small fee so i can say that i’m/
sorry that we k!lled them.”/
cue ellipsis and approval./
i’ve got a one-way ticket to a distance of unusual aesthetics./
upon arrival, i was logged into the system of a mutable linux, given a red hat,/
then directed to a room full of ghillie dhu and querquetulanae,/
and the folks of hamadryads: steaming./
i said, “i’m sorry that we’re known to have a quiet evening/
with a coffee and the carc-ss of your offsprings./
if it’s worth much,/
take pleasure in knowing that my words touch no kodama./
i’m a tech-junkie,/
so anything that’s lyrical is digital in practice. you can bet money.”/
suddenly, was greeted by phaeton. he said, “you isolated, proletarian bedlamites/
try to find an enterprise./
is it wise? never mind./
dad says up and at ’em for your nine-to-five.”/



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