As I eclipse myself in pole position
I picture parables and paths based on my own decisions
None of the guilt has been my own admission
But to preach my side of the field would feel to me like sedition so
As I procure myself a different pattern
Try to court the stars and have them send me off into the different planets
I sometimes feel like all my thoughts is random
I f*ck around and probably throw a tantrum
Damn, ah
As I project the different parallels and set sail the holy grail awaiteth the meek and so I shall prevail
The humble cup that spilleth over lights out supernova all of the pain is truly over
The skies repair