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lyrics

lights travel through translucent skin/ as he walks before sunrise in this city of sin/ wings broken for the moment, feet smacked to the ground/ he would walk for the duration of night as it fades out/ you could see the brittle glass bones as magic hour passes/ if you could climb the skyscrapers and use the windows as glasses/ his back bends, at angles unrecorded/ he would do anything to get his vertabrae re-ordered/ he bartered his sanity for a walk among monoliths/ and this emptied out street was the last thing that bothered him/ it was a moment as if sun chased the blink of an eye/ and he was running to cold rock but he was followed by fire/ it was a sun-moon saloon fight, where the orchids didn't bloom right/ and this heliocentric world had a venomous bite/ and white-out and permanant ink mixed to make a moment/ where this man would view earth tilt through a blown lens/ as it rolled defeated on that universe floor he still walked--gravity still worked/ but it was not without struggle that his feet touched crust/ and as every second passed, the sun travelled up/ and the minute the blue planet stopped rolling/ he would fall into the sky and wait for the next morning/ and as he fell upwards, his head would hit cloud cover/ celestial skull crack, sky-borne concussion/ but he'd never spill his marbles, he knew his bones well/ he'd hit the sky a million times but his face would never tell/ the clouds when the morning hit were ever denser than granite/ but his bones would re-assemble, his face remained scarless/ and although the upwards plummet never caused him much unrest, at times he wished he could sink through the scarlett clouds of the sunset/ but as long as he came to, the next morning walking/he could try again to escape and make his true God an offering/ but as of now his head headed towards 5 senses deaded/ and the soft orange light was coming sooner than expected/ the bones in his feet, they were less and less pressured/ until gravity would give way and his frame would be rejected/ if there was ever an example of a split-second detective/ it would be this wingless wanderer with a splintering perspective/ he wrecked it--bad, and his eyes would never rest/ nor would his demons find him in his celestial address/ when gravity flipped he would reach out, he was desperate to hold on/ but his hands would be as soft as the clouds that knocked him unconscious/ his silken bone structure, wavered in morning wind/ and the air holding him down vibrated his favorite hymns/ it would be a lovely fall as lighted windows rushed past him and the pastel technicolor busted through night's casket/ it was duality that kept him; maintained his dreams/ but sleeping in cloud lining is easier than it seems

i guess i'll just keep walking

footstep by footstep, daylight by daylight/ he would wait right until his broken body made the same flight/ and sometimes the memory of his previous joke of an a.m./ would tickle and bite him at the darker side of his brainstem/ but it never did surface as legitimate recall/ his thin illiterate feet had always failed to read the rainfall/ the saturated streets acted as paths to his nowhere/ and he would walk cold and curious through his hand-made delirious/ and the next time the dawn cracked would he fall up forever?/ his thoughts would always ask him as he fell into frescoed heavens/ the wind would cut skin as his journey up progressed/ but rest assured the rest occurred beneath his brainwave's crest/ so there he travelled/ in troughs of thoughts unravelled/ baffled by the sky and how oh-so fast he travelled/ he was a tragic comedian, first hand feeling the medians/ his fleeting vision treated him to love taps that weakened him/ and he was on the cusp, of finally waking up/ but for fear of his own discomfort he chose to stay trapped/ the fact that he laughed at mobious-looped lucid deamlife:/ unorthodox at best in this post-nuclear bedtime/ if he could only get himself to look at his beaten dreams/ he would quit this horrid cycle, and regrow his wings/ he wouldn't have to leave what he loved about the sunrise he could simply soar above his hate, and finally let his tears die

i guess i'll just keep walking.

credits

from The Master Thief Who Stole Your Lucid Dreams (A Retrospective Anthology Of My Early Sample​-​Based Creative Work), released September 17, 2016
Lyrics & Vocals By Agent Smith

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Wings Of An Angel

Voyager, Messenger, Unearthly Demagogue.

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