Pretty things, if life was a game I´d be winning, chrystal oak..

Departure on 19th of may 1978, switch the mode into a birds eye view, flap my wings and elaborate, to levitate on a journey out of a global perspective. Selecting destinations having a lifeline being active, I´m not a captive clinging to entrapment in a collective, constantly electing a leader being a cheater, a lie-feeder. I´m taking pleasure in details, you´re baking pressure in blackmails, sliding on rails leading all the way back to the re-invention of the wheel, having the flat tyre that you admire. You seem to be hating freedom as I´m flying over your cubicles, on a journey all the way from Arctis to central America, my name is Dominica, I´m made of feathers, you´re talking about democracy and republicans, I´m cosmopolitically incorrect, don´t have to be fighting gravity, I´m playing along with physical laws, freely, totally unable to crash. Nature works, you don´t , without the instiutionalised rewards having a leash, long enough to keep you satisfied. Generally you never believe in anything, without proof. Animating your life as I´m twittering from the roof of the castle you´re considering believing it´s really glittering. My wings consist of the power hidden deep inside of your dreams, practising gods without a license´s on my vocal cords, I´m taking a rest on a lightpole, no need for arrest, it´s too cold. By the way I´m leaving early it´s time for worldly altercation, observations in levitation, you would call a vacation. I´m traveling so many nations, eating so many worms, proceeding all over the map, reaching warmer weather. My favourite things of looking at the mankind´s progression, in a myriad of changing point of views being mainly magical, is the variation of colourful lights embellishing the nightsky, shining my path everytime, collaborating unaware, we´re breathing the same air, get amazed by the same waters, but you got a problem there in the craving of manslaughter. I´m living a life of purpose, slightly leaning against faith, outside of your culture needing multitasking to stay away from the emotional outbursts, internally screaming - YOU CAN´T TELL ME IT WAS MENT TO BE LIKE THIS!!?? But there is no meaning of life engraved into a stone, better find your own passion, where the reward is in the making, assimilate and explore, mainly elevate from the core.I´m flying over societies in addiction of doors.

I took one of these and approximently 30 minuits later I drowned in the seas, eventually feeling much greater, found an island of trees that was populated by one sunbather, her name was Louise and she was drifting, tired of haters. So we fell in love, simple and plain, hopped on a train, harmonizing all the way to the unknowns regions, reffered to as climax. Blowing away known prefabricated tracks and boundaries, laughing at clones blindly looking for things to take home. What are you climbing for when everything is sitting off right here?What are you rhyming about, when the creative process grows in doubt? You stumbled upon a couple of ghouls unable to read about anywhere.Totally bound to change rules, being aware of the bogus flares. I know your predjudice ways trails, most likely here to stay. We´re taking the plunge aside of your fastlane, notorious lame cliche´and fade away, "he say, she say" existance. Outside of the typical consumerism frame, always in vain. So I took my magical chain and strangled all globalised zombies of the world, there came Louise and started to squeeze the most potent part of humanity in a blender, rendering, tender, neverending smoothies.It´s hard to descriibe, but nothing like anything I´ve seen in the movies, truly we gained all of the capabilities of the whole galaxy, surfin sideways, exploding in peace-signs all over, resolving the haze like its´s the first time I´m sober.We´re sorry to be totally wired in a starry ride, a safari shattering all the arrogance and blind pride. We arrived a couple of lightyears later to planet earth with insight of how to unite the creatures in a rebirth. Implosions imply you decide to run away when it hurts.Explosions supply the cry, exterminating dirt x2 Falling flat on the ground on arrival, meeting old rivals, delightfully in proceeding greetings, bleeding from the solar. Been travelling far without conceptual fear of human barrs. Just came from Mars to deliver the incense from a couple of stars. As far as we know we´re part of the luxury side of the milkyway.There´s so many things to do from learning to play to getting laid. Despite the grades and the ethnocentric ways, the potential of humanitys creativity is quite magical. So we came back, solely bound to blow and shatter the cold, dividing similar godly beings without the slightest sense of independent unscreended prodeedings, unavailible writings and readings. Reach inside groown cavities, don´t ever be afraid to collide. Implosions imply you decide to run awayy when it hurts.Explosions supply the cry, exterminating dirt. I don´t need no drugs anymore, it seems like the end of a war, when you´re reaching inside of a core, you really gotta learn about metaphores. It´s opening doors you know, the ones being closed when chasing doe. Take a look at Louise. she used to be the queen of materialism, but all she ever wanted was somebody who really listens. And to believe in one thing, without neccesarily secluding the other.Do you wanna be that victim, never cut loose, blaiming your mother? A smothering comfort being portable, quite affordable, with calcylated trix to pull in districts way full. Implosions imply you decide to run away when it hurts.Explosions supply the cry, exterminating dirt x2

There´s different types of microphones, different types of people who decides to control them, that is what I tooold them -Who? - Just about anybody waiting in line - And you? - Well I´m gererating sparks in my lifetime x2 Different types of microphnes, different types of people who decides to control them..that is what I told them. Some is making plans hidden inside of an office, see. Some creates a brand for the people of hypocrisy, the penalty for disobedience is naturally the main ingredient, you´re banned by bureaucracy. Took of my clothes, smelled your roses, being totally devoted to a radiating fragrance, emedietly I decided you were´nt part of my thrills, so I followed my heart and I ran for the hills. Man I´m not writing wills cause you know my rhymes kill. It is all in the outer lines, penetrating closed minds.You wanna categorize, generalizing wisely and get a precise slice light enough to analyze, exit your eyes and your brains pandemonium, put me in the driverseat, slowly cloning em. Driving over mountains, renting neverending tents in entrances of tendencies of smoking sess. I´m in your Iris, a desireless virus, can I take a rest, unless you digress? There´s different types of microphones, different types of people who decides to control them, that is what I told them -Who? - Just about anybody waiting in line - And you? - Well I´m gererating sparks in my lifetime x2 Amma try to catch a wave and put it in a cave, and collect the brightest stars, decorate the inside.I let the door slide, who needs the privacy? A chrystal Oak on my porch and a green torch. Unfortunately all my walls have a mad scorch, but then I´m independently entitled: growing free. It´s all inside of me, I give it all for you, in all simplicity animals are clumsy to. Think of the sideeffects of exo-personalities, realise it´s bogus, legalise the old trust. Reincargnation with a bridge to romanticism, reanimation without living dead waitouts and played out readable layouts, uncany wipeouts. SYKE! You´re part of lame things you don´t even like.I´m hovering above it, you get wipped, I get lit. Keep the pride in being a pompous, expressionless casperdoll. I´d rather crawl looking for trIangular hooles in the wall, in decorations not suitable for patients. There´s different types of microphones, different types of people who decides to control them, that is what I tooold them -Who? - Just about anybody waiting in line - And you? - Well I´m gererating sparks in my lifetime x2

Seemingly infinite supply of these phony creatures walking identified, pondering making decisions in automatically controlled visions, growing out of frustration in the monstrousities people glorify, blowing the destinations of generousity you came to deny. It´s really about time to step out of the global mind and give them a throwback.I mean common really, you can´t pretend you don´t know you´re coming out wack? The reputation you claim is travelling live, penetrating rocks and cracks. It takes a Miracle to rearrange your soul, making it lyrical, from a couple of elements being rythmical, craving mythical wild surroundings, composing an overdose and later a funeral, for rebootable insights. It´s only four you and your exo-personality, it became your reality by delivering sugarcoated truth, bleeding in MAD proportions, breeding the enemy of the youth.This master of the ceremony lifetime spanning fling´s not a glammy thing, ask anyone outside of the frames of corrupted fame and cocaine. This aint Falcon Crest, it´s actually more like twin peaks invaded by ink-freaks, that´s why i tweak, leaking abstract perspectives and fight them, equiped in non-collective items, fueld by the massive audience´s silence and their passive aggressive violence. Keep telling your jokes, I´m smoking under my chrystal oak on a mountain soaked in fountains and a large amount of actionparks for the questionmarks where rhe radical parts sparks.I´m litteraly a living sentence, keep loosing you´re mind in goolden dungeons all blinded by "evidence", the opposite of eloquent, concider yourself irrelevant.

- Let me take a look at the place you have there, you primitive imbecille, I´m thinking of making it mine and take over your land, if you don´t mind?My name is Mr Travels and I hereby declare you a slave, listen closely, I´ll crawl inside of your skin if you don´t behave.See i got powers, take a look at the magical arc we just arrived in, only gods and kings, can travel the way we do to haunt you and your pityful ways of life, at the top of the list of my foodchain, scientifical phrophecies from back home said I got game. So i think you can understand why me and my crew will totally dominate with guillotines, firesticks and machetes and freedom. Just get in line, yeah YOU and the rest of the cattle, all 500 of yall, somebody complained?? (BOOM) who the FUCK wanna battle a hand that serves you?What a breakthrough, what a bloodshed, I´d awake you but I´m braindead, blindfoolded by a complete history of my criminal failures. So we reached new sands with an ocean between us and the shame, totally free from guilt, responibility and reminders were noone can find us "nevermind I was just reminicing, I´m truly sorry" Take us to your leader so we can say we´re not coming in piece, your culture has to seize. Reservation camps are only for executioners and tramps, for the rest of you, build us a whole new society, based on our lies, you know it´s all about pride and limber cover-ups to control.Question my authority and I throw you and your family in a hole.My god is your god and mine got a particilar taste, it really makes sense, our benefits is my evidence. My name is Mr travels AKA your average man-opressor. Demolishing your venue with world domination on the menu x4

You put your nails on the blackboard everytime we go on a date, I´d rather see snails on the black board next time we go on a date

My religion is bound to wallow in pandemonium, beware of the semen of all mediocrity demons.They´re legion is found to be hollow needing polonium, declaring the freeman awkwardly tense. Known evidence strolls in pride and alligned arrogance, a mirage that came to divide the humane clearence. They found me in the rain trying to imitate waters, I was not ashamed at all emulating otters, communicating wildly, freaking out the squatters. Generalising, not necessarily giving advise, I arise in your mind, previously a myre. Liar! Your soul is covered by desire, your tangible wings of understandable things and editable kings in unavoidable strings, played by the mediators of the medium society, riding elevators giving tedium sobriety. I compose variety dividable in circles being juxtaposed, the remedy to what you overdoose. Graphically, transforming rapidly, visually an exercise of cinematics for your brain. My God is running laps, trapped in my skullcap, a teenage lobotomy could free him like a genie. Mesmorising, tantaliziing, women and men, reanalysing, blowing the frame of the horizon. Put me on a cross and I will use it as dental floss. You´re just a rental, essentially lacking mental compatible growth, combining both in the sunshine. Taking your act, subtract and delete, fucking with the abstract leads to defeat.Greetings, I´m holding meetings giving you beatings of devastating readings of the plague that you´re breathing. I wanna slice your containable wealth, displace your face and erase all the traces. I´m walking trails made of green fatlaces. You wanna race, take a look up, that´s the place.. And when I´m finished I will keep you in my basketcase.Nevermind the sobstories, I tell the dwellers of the past the paain is in the glory.I found this song in the bottom of a well, it´s often played by the aliens from hell.You got it wrong in the autumn of the spell, you came delayed from the cell, and fell.

Stop that train I´m about to unlock this brain and obtain dry lands in the rain. Rock that chain with no doubt, old blocks of the grain, try commanding memorylanes. Wipe off your face, be gone for days, follow my trace, get a glimpse of the grace. There´s so many ways for me to get inside your cavities to rearrange and violate your gravity, liquified, get lit without a high, I correctify interactive graphics, get off the mic just take my hand, you like brands? I put you inside of my spraycan, decomposed, covering the walls=aerosol overdosed b-boy gas. You take out the trash and your look is casual, getting a rash when I´m being irrational. 25 steps behind and unkind, your primitive ways is everywhere to find, I go blind get rid of my ears, and you´re still there!Oh no I got no flavour to spare, I beware of the creatures climbing the stairs, catch my drift? don´t crawl on my trail, hatch my gift and fall on my rail. wallowing wiggling jiggling giggling, unwillingly concidering,,putting a ring on the on the mic, keep holding it tight, and unite, getting married in the nightlight, out of sight in a kite with a dynamite, man it feels quite right to explode. I used to hang in a tight rope, loaded, folded, then i rolled it and sold it halfprice, you´re looking like a slice of my past life, do you really wanna believe the material you play is hard to concieve? It´s back in the middle of a crack, in a minuite I attack any foe in the game that lack, that sack in a minimal track and the manual pack explaining your outcome´s wack. How come you wanted to welcome charades to a culture polluted by grades? All elements aside, lying in pride, aligned ,imitating in line for ratings to find a neverminding kind of fame, still I´m the one that´s insane.

The imagination was elevated to a position as the supreme faculty of the mind. This contrasted distinctly with the traditional arguments for the supremacy of reason. We tended to define and to present the imagination AS our ultimate "shaping", or creative power, the approximate human equivalent of the creative powers of nature or even deity. It is dynamic, an active, rather than passive power, with many functions. Imagination is the primary faculty for creating all art. On a broader scale, it is also the faculty that helps humans to constitute reality, for we not only perceive the world around us, but also in part create it. Uniting both reason and feeling, imagination is extolled as the ultimate synthesizing faculty, enabling humans to reconcile differences and opposites in the world of appearance. The reconciliation of opposites is a central ideal for the Romantics. Finally, imagination is inexTricably bound up with the other two major concepts, for it is presumed to be the faculty which enables us to "read" nature as a system of symbols. The Romantics were ambivalent toward the "real" social world around them. They were often politically and socially involved, but at the same time they began to distance themselves from the public. As noted before, high Romantic artists interpreted things through their own emotions, and these emotions included social and political consciousness--as one would expect in the face revolution, one that reacted so strongly to oppression and injustice in the world. So artists sometimes took public stands, or wrote works with socially or politically oriented subject matter. Yet at the same time, another trend began to emerge, as they withdrew more and more from what they saw as the confining boundaries of böörzjuaa life. In their private lives, they often asserted their individuality and differences in ways that were to the middle class a subject of intense interest, but also sometimes of horror.Thus the gulf between "odd" artists and their sometimes shocked, often uncomprehending audience began to widen. Some artists may have experienced ambivalence about this situation. Yet a significant Romantic theme became the contrast between artist and middle-class. Unfortunately, in many ways, this distance between artist and public remains with us today.

Drag me backwards, when you come to describe yourself you seem to lack words, the phony blurbs coming out of your mouth really needs a logo, saying "beyond repair" in a doggybag in foggy, wrinkled weather. 2012 is all about buisness being unusual, check your calendar, common you know what I´m talking about, the addiction of pocket editions of screens, serene theatrical charade co existing valid galaxies of interacting wack emcees. I kidnapped your soul because it´s already out of context. At the most, to you, I´m an imaginary enemy being a satelite, riding on high little ponies, claiming your outcome´s bologny. I dig the skeleton out of your grave for decorations in my palmtree, when I´m out of words I put them down on the ground, creating poetry. I´m not finished, on the day i die, I re-animate myself, wearing your body as a chassi, living a lifetime in coma. I rearrange my persona, being a part of so many point of views, in the making, all criticism aside is mainly taken, growing in my foundation placed on oval structures...flown in consideration based on a noble curse...to leave my total existance inner, audio, area code inside of the trails, so many people lost, way before it was even found, only alive to pay the cost, giving a war, next to the underground. Uncovering all components of a core i inside of a lifetime + Unfolding all opponents being shady is never in vain. Revealing the outer action following latters to climb, is a degrading lane when being aware of the inner that remains Come check me out as I´m collecting all of my own doubts, hear the drone recreating a bundle bringing grown sprouts. I´m running rounds around the generation acting sheist, very delighted, mainly devided, sometimes even united. I invited all of my so called enemies to watch me explode, to re-write it, making it look like charity and switch the mode in the negative mood, opening broods containing violent feuds. Sometimes I find myself socialising with all kinds, it´s part of my inner wealth, maximizing trails to find. I´m falling flat on the ground to wake up in a reincarnation, hogtied in a carousel of greedy blown existance, realising everything got a season wether it´s good or bad. The BIG picture is way beyond any casual lecture. You´re part of a fraction show being 5% of the actual news. I´m mathematically undetected, but my mind´s erected.Keep collecting material that you weep about when you loose, I´m deeper than your fabricated soul you´re calling a keeper.Show me the love of my life and I´m giving a promise to upsweep her.

I was given a phonecall when the pendulum of the moon decided it´s nightime, the darkness kept painting my walls characterising goon-minds. The unfamiliar voice claimed she was a teacher of mine, knowing I crossed the line in experimentation needing peace to find I try to be kind thinking it´s obviously a prank-thank you very much, can you call me back during a more suitable hour? I did´nt even get the time to give her a valid explination why, since fire came flowing out of my walls, and gigantic needles of bobonic plague rapidly penetrated my roof, making me wide awake, drawn to the conclusion it´s not an earthquake. I jump outside outside of the window landing straight in a glowing lake, radioactive, literaly acidic, quite ironic. I manage to bring myself into that forrest growing nearby, in a state of shock I stublme, and I hit my head in a rock. thinking it´s over. Barely alive, crawling, crying, but suddenly I distinguish something hidden deep inside of my mind. I recognise a structure out of a building of lights containing corridors, hall passes and a great variety of pupils, and teachers shining my way to the entrance having a welcome sign, enveloped.I open it up, reading the invitation saying the following: Dear Prosperous, faith believer/hazard underachiever? It does´nt matter you´re hearby invited to step on the mic and teach any wiseguy or fool in the population of the NIGHTSCHOOL. You got the phone phonecal and it´s everything but a multiple choice. Take over the scene, get rid of the bullies, amplify your voice. Open up the mind of the undissected youth nightly, quietly without no gimmicks, hijacking the consciousness. Silently personafying a remix murdering stress. The wiseguys, the nerds, the bullies the local fools..The teachers pet, the rascals..welcome to the night school