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Dr. Baker “Kaos”


Nah, fuck it
Keep it coming
greykeeper are 300 proof, aloof to all suggestion that convention is the fuel that truly gets our motors running
Prevention of the simple truth mankind was not intended to relent against blind leaps into the unknown, known for bluffing
Should all then count for nothing
Better hope for a tough mother
As another thing convention breeds
Is all kinds of internal bleeding
Feeding from a will once free
Figuratively, need we say
For herein lies the paradox
Should orthodox not be our way
Then we have tools to separate the phoniest baloney from the only truth we truly need to learn
That certain flames proceed to burn, while others dare not flourish
With courage in conviction then offset against true wisdom
We enlist the kind of backbone known as linchpin to true vision
No longer prone to zoning out each time the white noise plays percussion
Information overload?
Fuck that shit! Keep it coming
Stunning calculations then become refueling stations with a true appreciation for the art of manifestation
Designs on the mutation we’re becoming
Got to keep those motors running
Rev the engine, fire the pistons
Find the path of least resistance
Kiss the asphalt, hit the road
Jack in nitrous, go the distance
Drifting, hydroplaning
Shifting stick to quicken getaway
No let up as the pedal grinds on metal like its precious
In less than nought to sixty, the once bright lights of big city blur
Magnetizing ions as the words we say unslur, ergo
The pellet with the poison’s in the vessel with the pestle, while the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true
Or is that… blue?
Could it be the poison in the chalice from the palace lacks the malice to address the mortar less it be with pestle
And whatever of the brew?
Well, snoozing is to losing what Pacino was to Cruising
Conducive not to proof that’s in the pellet from the pudding
Good grief, whatever of the flagon with the dragon
Should this snag the poison chalice, then Alice may just eat it, drink it
Think it to be true of brew, sink to her knees dragooned and sing the blues
Everyday’s a gray day if your name is Nosferatu
Fuck it, let’s hit cruise control
Regulators! Mount up! Lock and load!
Take this show on open road
And activate the mother lode
Unleash every Kraken as the wheels of steel gain traction
Information overload?
Nah, fuck it
Let’s just overflow
Action shit like Jackson Pollock, never mind the bollocks
As frolicking with tonics sure beats poisoning the vessel
Less than zero reasoning to seasoning the brew with roofies
Truth is living proof that it is best not to sedate ourselves
Not hide away in dark rooms, candle-lit
But brace ourselves and handle it
The truth will set us free
Of course, some eyes are sensitive to light
But this is where we hit up second sight for our enlightenment
Learn of our entitlement to veer towards the precious things
And cherry pick from anything that banks on our dependency
Saddle up and click our heels
Get off our horse and drink our milk
Best to check that shit for pellets
Seek best fit for our quick wits
Shift like ferrets up a drain pipe
Make B-line for trellis
Find the window to the soul
And merchandise that shit like Venice
Don’t let anybody say we’re doomed to fail and die by doing
For in the rubble of our troubles, lies the black eye of our ruin
Information overload?
Nah, fuck it
Let’s push through this
Motherfucking do this as we motherfucking knew this was the lucky break our aching hearts departed from back in the day
Chased our hopes and dreams away
Replacing with night terrors
System error, wired to blow as circuits thirsted cursed nodes
Nothing blessed left to show for lifetimes spent downloading
Little did we know, these poison pellets were corroding
Information overload?
Nah, fuck it
Feed the monkey nuts
Break the stubborn shell, spit out the guts
Take the scalpel, make the cut
Sip from chalice, build resistance
Be the vessel, court the jester
Test the waters, slay the dragon
Revel in its slaughter at the altar
However, don’t get hett up and forget to offer up forgiveness
Find the soothing brew that’s true
Paint it black and blue, should such you choose
But take the time to make it everything and more to lose
With so damn much ado
Now go the distance!
And we’ll see you at the palace…

Richard Charles Stevens

Keeper of The Crimson Quill

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