Eyes open in a paralytic dream state.
Hallucinating off the spirit like I’m freebasing.

I’m in the presence of greatness so it resonates the sound, body and soul.
Vision illuminates through word and power.

The counterfeits I encounter.
Your 15 minutes are over. I’m your rush hour.

Time is up and death comes calling.
See me standing on the edge of the unknown. You’re falling.

Free falling.
Like a body bag covered in diamonds.
Diving.
There’s a bullet in the lining.

I can feel you breaking. Why? I lose control.

You can choose life and success or death and disaster.
And he who laughs last might’ve figured out the answer.

No one could ever serve two masters so don’t leave perpetual retribution to chances.

Puppets keep dancing, iced out in gold caskets.
One minute you was hot but now forgotten in your absence.

Body decays while the soul recalls.
The grass still withers, and the flower falls.

Free falling.
Like a body bag covered in diamonds.
Diving.
There’s a bullet in the lining.

I can feel you breaking. Why? I lose control.

The grass still withers, and the flower falls!
I can feel you breaking!