was it all about the prophet or the profiteering mound?
I am of the understanding it was neither.
was it all about investors or inventors of the math?
I have no understanding of this either;
I am but a simple man who wears his heart upon his quill
I have found this corner of a world with its force fed standing still;
I am the closest friend of no-one, my enemies are few
my mind it seems more occupied with the lesser that I do
I have tried to read a bible, was distracted by a load
who had the gall to tell me the world did not explode.
so that\'s why still the sun burns my introverted skin
while the moon curls up in laughter with his extroverted grin.
I am guessing when this covid came god was drinking gin
but at least I have an angel with my ale beneath her wing
and a gracious flock of darkness not afraid to let me in.
I am the owner of the idle in my castle full of shit
I am the pendulum about my room slicing through the whit
I am hapless. I am hopeless. friend only to the dead
and all I have about me are these worms inside my head;
I am now something to the nothing. I am the nothing of it all.
so if my nothings what you\'re asking, you are welcome to it all.