Ocean, wish and wash up an eternity, don't care where it's been
Even on the inside of the vessel, it won't evoke a sin
Caring for the surface and the Portuguese man'o'war
I want truths that come up all the way from the bottom floor
Give me pitch-black Styx water, a drought of philosophy
Tell me everything you know about this mythic physiognomy
For another definition, give up all your inventions
Purple and the surface, Muricidae will not serve you well
The Tyrians are on their way to the heaven inside of Hell
Christofascist motifs form a motive for uselessness
Freeing selves from ruins with these deep-reaching services
I could never distinguish you, I could never surely say
The border straining out each piece of night from the day
Cheesecloth, sieve, and a method of a method's production
Class being the categorization of a world and its attributes
Nothing will stop a world's construction, not even apocalypse
Ruins of tall buildings, inquire where they would have fallen
Scaling the Temples of God, I can hear faint echoes of Sallust
Tacitus aside, I wonder what it was like to feel faint optimism
My feelings extreme, a partial mirror image of a broken reality
What could a dream be in relation to the rest of me?
Cutting off interpretation, I find exitium mentium
With nothing having been stopped by a stray bullet sentiment
I run so quickly towards the beginning of an additional section
Working in segments, I discover realities so sexless
Nothing stopping me from astonishing myself within this nexus
Discover that the lands in my mind have infinite leases
Beyond event horizons, makes me wish I could meet them
Granted sight of shadows, disbelieving in honest limits
Sixteen bits or floating point and still I encounter clipping
Nothing could've kept me from the feelings that I felled
All the walls and the trees I ran my hands down and felt
Felt providing necessitated constraints on a maniac gamut
Thus, you're so far from alone, says my honorable caput
Improbability is never a reason for putting down mirrors
Be whatever you want, just keep it on our seas and Earth
When the sky's our limitation, we can send out provocations
Many lackadaisically impressed with a complex creation
Endlessly consume ourselves, all on some god's invitation
We do not through-compose, for we know what we are deep down
Someday there'll be a way to need someone else nontoxically
Necessitate their being without impaling atop blades
When this day comes, a thousand earths must contain me
While I engage in my nonsystemic, difficult process compositing
This to that, interconnective folksonomic mythologies
Reconstruct the shards of our too-dark ontologies
All will come together in a quaking flower of bloom
I swear to God that I will see the whole of my world soon