Blood

Sometimes it starts sometimes it stops 

Sometimes I play sometimes I watch 

Do I even see, the anguish of greed

Take care of myself, and nobody else

When Im walking down the street, I catch an eye of someone , it feels like they know something. Do they know me or what I've been through, what do they do. 

Sometimes I go spent, sometimes I lay back 

But languish in sadness, I'm not doing that 

When I'm walking down the street, I see another eye, it catches mine. I wonder what they believe. Do they seek truth or do they seek pleasure, do they wallow in self indulgence, like a fucking asshole,

I see sequins, turtlenecks and corsets, and forgotten dreams and intolerance 

I see professional thieves, and creeps in the clergy, smiling upon the tears of broken faith.

You say you are a modernist, but your habitual. You can't contain yourself if you break a ritual. To live with nothing is your intention, make a mention of your big mansion. 

you seek an unbiased truth but your clouded by your stubbornness. 

You think there's bugs in your shoes and your praising the government. 

Living in Times of paranoia big name brands promoting you to buy. Into to another counter culture. 

I seek the abstract truth, not the truth sold to me. Abstraction of my youth, emotional bludgeoning .

Callan Cummings 2017