All around me,
From out of His crushing iron grip,
They dance around us,
They feast, their appetite for my body,
They come for me.
I wake up,
But it wasn't at all a dream.
It couldn't have been,
Yet the echoes continue to return.
[tick-tock instrumental during fly-thru of plantation]
[white slaves, occasional vocals, working in clockwork fashion]
I reap what you bitches sow.
Don't try me, you moving kinda slow.
I got a Legal Operation to run,
And I need some dolla bills, son.
A hundred G's,
Shooting for another million.
Hobos, homos, peacocks, and feathers too.
I made it into this strange new birdcage.
Rimmed by jutting mountains and lush evergreens,
In the haze of fresh dope,
I reached a land where I can find hope.
The cage is our utopia,
Get in, for the shimmer is fine,
Down in the Cockatoo Sanctuary,
Where "weird" is our currency of exchange
All along the valleys and mountain range.
Sorry, Mom and Dad.
It's time for me to take off and go.
Sorry, my friends and fans,
For the future is out of my hands.
And I don't wanna leave town,
But it's time for me to go now.
For this mess I cannot bear.
I need God and the crisp, fresh air.
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