A Delinquent Fetish For Adversity.

Having been, in fairness, let's say, a delinquent fetish for adversity
And lost in the knowing how all such things came to my attention
In the background of a style boiled the ingredients to temperatures
Reaching beyond my ears listening to the whispers from yesterday
Tactics are taken to advantage points where a resolution is found
Where the oddness of doing something with rarity brings it along
Staring into space filled a tightened room with endless thoughts
Bad as badness gets requiring concentration to inhale the smoke
Crazed with what's going on and wondering why everything is mad
Flexing capabilities of the impossible with an attempt in suicide
Fish fall prey to the waters where I once roamed with a calculator
Abnormality picks the person who decided to try something else instead
And in developing ideas where only the insane appears to be happy
Those little cracks open up and it enters the wisdom of instability
That what follows a shadow around corners are the differences in between
Influences causing the destruction of those dozen split personalities
Grand entrances fitting the ego with a trace of eloquent flambouyancy
Configurations of mathematically stressed out Nobel Prize-winning awards
So others perceive the world to be it's then the superfluous thoughts hurt
Dangerously walking the genius tightrope with another world in tow
Broken bibles entice the living daylight to raise up and teach the world
Far-fetched discrepancies revolting towards 'just allow this one more time'
Seagulls pecking at my head as I lay down on the magic carpet of life
And the chimney stacks are falling all around the illusions of pipe dreams
Calling into visit the psychiatrist to mention about how normal things are
Those sticks and traumatic mistakes made through the army of struggling on
Mountains filled with footprints falling off the beaten track for futures
Disembarked on the missions where I thought everything looked so beautiful
Wrong in the effect of being 'not quite right' towards the heave of demise
Kings and sometimes the slaves of misfortune sleep restlessly dangerous
So I take a seat right down beside the hope of one day losing my religion
In faith, own the ability to withstand the barrage of thwarting pains of hurt
For there remains the soul with indecisive tendencies to ruin everything
Paying the consequences of time enveloping the lack of it being unrewarding
Sat upon a throne of indulgences including the compulsive twitching itch
A clown is nothing in comparison to the imagery of what goes on upstairs
With a look at the world and everything in it appears to be in 3D
Conversation changes over the years but one thing remains, a love of hate
Beckoned in by the devil's notions of planning on making sure of losing
Confidence withered to degrees of high maintenance always repairing itself
The copious amounts of wording detailed information about this lack of all
That the mask uncovered shows the reality of a man who holds no fakery
A breathing one who reduces the negativity with the energetic pulsations
Carry on regardless feeling safe in the knowledge that everything is okay.