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Beyond the Fold

from I WANT TO EXIST. by Wilbur Force

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lyrics

you better get
up, look up, upon the fair weather
hold up, stand up, get your affairs together
though the bread maker's broken at the prayer center
and every thread you've written's ripped into its last letter

I'll be your bone setter tethered at the lost never
I can Plato all the play dough though I knew better
cause these feels don't fit the structure like a third gender, but
hold up, measure up and bust a hole, you can see beyond the fold


work a service that's entirely superfluous,
give it up for
happiness,
omens in the opulence
corpulent socio-dialysis
tell me what the problem is,
tell me who Messiah was—
heard he was an activist
pacifist, a catalyst to avalanche
abolishing the poverty of property and revenue attached to it,

seeking to empower every addict of the battle stress
empathy is healthy see it's party to humanity

preaching what I practice is,
nasty as the laugh I hit
spit in living color vision risen
as the Lazarus

so call me blasphemous,
Lucifer, Hesiod, John Snow—
Rust Cohle, newest to the pantheon
waterlogged, choking in a smog full of memories
why's it such a struggle seeing six feet in front me

guess it's just the atmosphere of massacre
era of the demagogue, year of the vermin

patriarchs a
narcissist, classic as the classified murder obscured under
a cult of classist violence like
ALL COPS
misogyny and murder are the matter,
like all COPS
I gotta a lotta friends that you all like to stomp on,
set to take the fall another you get the drop on
handle every matter with one hand on the handgun

camped out on the corner smoking seized marijuana
copped out under lock down 'til all this is stamped out
sick of the dealt death, sick of the sick to death,
and all that you stand for I'm sick how I stand by

it's natural as the dirt I am, earth I am, never to own
still with little to show, I'm internationally known
with a dome that's perpetually grown,
workin services entirely superfluous,

happiness,
lobotomy Anonymous
Bosch, Hieronymus

Boss, I thought of it
tell you what the problem is
you do us more harm than the lot of it


but my friend,
you better get
up, look up, upon the fair weather
hold up, stand up, get your affairs together
though the bread maker's broken at the prayer center
and every thread you've written's ripped into its last letter

I'll be your bone setter tethered at the lost never
I can Plato all the play dough though you knew better
cause these feels don't fit the structure like a third gender, but
if you ever play the volume to its last measure, it was a

rare pleasure, and at your fair leisure, you can break it down,
and listen up the better to that soul nectar, life's treasure
life will get better, and through a tear you can get beyond the fold

credits

from I WANT TO EXIST., released March 21, 2016

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Wilbur Force Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

=WILBUR FORCE!=
"Frustratingly Romantic! Fiercely Anticapitalist!"

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