Text: Communication Project. Other. Do Tell.

...in once upon a times where babies are born into numerical order
there are things like hip hop and dead people
we just need to talk for two minutes...

There will be no
self respecting savior with completely comfortable skin
a new rap radio
hell, he or she might not have any idea what so
ever they got the good stuff in 'em
and I hate to cliche it, yo
but can you feel the pain, for real, though
ain't a grieving face hidden, just look at that building
women, a tortured ho willed to fit in clothes
and then remain accessibly loyal to the swift punch in the nose
so, where's my reinventors with the truth serum
and newfounders of the fountain of youth?
yet you awoke to obsess with their appearance
and desperately in need of some proof
man, holding hands saves lives
but we're in this one together whether the roof is on fire
or perfect for watching the other stars fry
and I know, I know cardinals and blue jays can't just get along
but, um, but their minds are the size of very small rocks
and we've the opposable thumb
not to mention emotions that can paint the walls of a cave
plenty big enough brains
so give it up, the debut hatch
then make like a dream and catch
there's an entire universe going on and you're invited
tell a friend

after all, change wasn't built for a day
and the first time you lay your eyes on something truly beautiful
it tends to stay that way

great people do great things and this next part is on you

and after all, change wasn't built for a day
and the first time you lay your eyes on something truly beautiful
it tends to stay that way

if different is all that we got that makes similar words crying out for
with ??? a voice and the precedent doesn't get any better than
easily ?