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Don't believe a single word he says.
Call up the big hero, kid president.
You and me know the sun'll rise tomorrow
but two and two may equal five.
And ain't that the start of it?
Live feeding nero's fiddle solo
climbing up the walls and jumping from the top till it's over.

Driving with the top down -
just had to scrape the overhang.
See what comes off, the median littered with the dead.
And I don't burn roach, I smoke medicine.
Most accessible one of twenty seventeen.
And there's an aneurism in here.
Said, click into place.
We don't lockout, we chain link and lockdown.
Remember it's not the first time
the cloven hoof's come down or been down.
Surrounded, can you still ignore it?

Don't believe a single word he says.
Call up the big hero, spit out the sugar, we're here to stay.
Clouds came.
We wouldn't be here if we couldn't handle some acid rainy weather.
Trace it back to that heartbeat, a shared history.
The moment we can articulate the difference we're trading
ghost stock in empty condos, ETP,
the masks we made when the cloud burst,
the body defined as a machine.
It's your call to stay sleeping.


from No Good Art In Paradise, released June 15, 2017




Cameron Toy Brooklyn, New York

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