Real Life

You are just getting by, forgetting you are just going to die, life is a lie. Flowing on the tide of nothing going by.

I'm picking at thought or is This retort picking at thought.

I'm twisted in my inner court, I'm misted in my inner thought, I'm lifted in my inner mork.

It's so low I'm shifting my inner torque.

Now, I have real life so call Me The Beckoning Real Strive.

I'm heck reckoning these lyrical Tech mechanisms.

I'm on a sect setting with a vector heading!

Mannerisms bedding these secular settings.

I'm off on a molecular fretting.