Build Me A Home

Build me a home with an ocean in my bathroom
and a ladder on the rooftop that connects to the moon.
            Where my TV is a window to the future that I can replay
till it becomes my past.
            Where my ceiling is the sky and my infinite now
are the running clouds
from which silence chokes on its own ego out loud.
  Build me a home with a bed
where Beyoncé and Lucy Liu sleep to give me head.
                    I want a front yard full of zombies on treadmills
                    counting sheep just to keep me awake
       cause death is the cousin of sleep.

I was born into this too.
My little black spot on the sun
shines blue
but it likes to flicker
the light just to fuck with the hues,
a micro part in the machine
helping to keep the bloody blade clean.
Fight for my right to be crazy.
Lie to myself to survive
or tell the truth
and watch the feathers in my
wings leak glue.
But I be damn if I kill myself
Just to get a permanent
bird’s eye view.
Living in a world where the shadows
of souls drag their severed heads
behind them like a toy tied
to a string theory

I broke the levees that segment
every instance of my awaking,
When I had a head full of pills
and a wallet full of dreams
I know what you’re thinking
But I stil get confused
when everyone in the room
is laughing except me.
Flip a two-headed Kennedy
for my sanity
and try to stick to the script
while the letters moonwalk
on the margins

Build me a home with an ocean in my bathroom
and a ladder on the rooftop that connects to the moon.
            Where my TV is a window to the future that I can replay
till it becomes my past.
            Where my ceiling is the sky and my infinite now
are the running clouds
from which silence chokes on its own ego out loud.
  Build me a home with a bed
where Beyoncé and Lucy Liu sleep to give me head.
                    I want a front yard full of zombies on treadmills
                    counting sheep just to keep me awake
       cause death is the cousin of sleep.

A Farmer Jones Production