Occupy This Time of Mine

People sitting there, mindless fare so unaware. The one inside just hides and bides and makes our time not worth the crimes. Something that shall never die, and time collapses, traps us, it's a crap shot. You know you're immoral, your oral reform takes place with no scorn foolin' with the tree so green and adorned (don't worry it's dead so go ahead, mourn). And bombs will come, some explosion corrosion, it'll show you why the flowin' wind blows like it's blowin' holdin' your hand, leads you where you're goin'. Romantics question why dead plants are growin', sitting in their puddles as fake lights keep glowin'. Transcendence pretends, a mission's witness behind that black picket fence expanding fake pretense of equine remembrance, this Utopian existence from fictitious bliss, turning and yearning to learn baby burn.