Factually

The voting register categorised me as alpha to labour with visitations of free thinking on the label
My family live in the towers of babel
It's foundations have been unstable for a long time so mine is to vote simultaneously
 make note of every think tank quote and step into the shallow end where there are no rules. There's a gene pool and a blunt end that has no friends
and that's where disbelievers like me look for a saviour
cause if we've ever needed a favour
even though the madness of perverted Christians once castigated me in self flagellation to gain submission and I saw the real light that some of you switched off leaving the third eye to man made heavens
Maybe we are taught virtue and sensitivity by those who have none
to narrow the competition in the race to find life forms on mars
whilst we're too young to change and too old to die
and adding everybody together makes nobody
Nobody says what everybody means
so no-one is anyone until someone screams
making us second fiddle to somebody's  schemes
and someone's always trying to leave
so it's wise to try being the one to believe in if you need leading or want to have fun with it like an American movie with a gun in it where
the hero complex trickles down radio waves
covered in drunken spurts of adverts patronising homosapians
and not one can you trust

So when i'm looking at it all from the window of the night bus, I feel like I might just out of spite
rip off the roof  like an absess tooth rots and just has to be gone
and its hard to preserve your very last nerve
cause your mind is like a bladder bursting
and the first thing you wanna do is the worst thing
since there is no high like truth and you know that for the most part they're all prats and pricks placed in a manifest matrix
with no way out of it
even if you anchored a concept in the pretext
like 16x16=256
the Cabala of my Taurus
with a relapsed rhythm of reliving my upbringing saving me from falling in
and drowning in labour class misery
or crashing into a bosom of peers with stolen ears
and clogged up eyes oozing to a  melody of pick n mix songs of a need to belong
to a creation or a pound shop generation
where  nobody talks to you cause you're not famous.
and each individual is blameless and nothing really changes
 even if you flp the dread on its head and stigmatise the bigger guys
whose spoken words breath the life of deth into gunpowder and gold
yet are still incapable of extracting Excalibur
Their media feeding you advocates that there are no flies
on an entire civilisation
cultivated on lies
and the science of rotating, low vibrating violence
as if we were just category C tenants in 20 story tower blocks with  neuro- impulses re-deployed by vertigo
when we are the energy waves, morphed into liquids susceptible to endorphins
and identities are soluble entities drained out of and trained into you
as subtly as you grow from innocence to in the know
and maybe it matters that
one day somebody will say that
you
lost
loads
at the cross roads
where the birch tree
sensing an opening
patented july's baddest Afro
its roots in the narrative that the blue pill leads to a vortex so intense that tissue can be disconnected from consciousness
I'd like you to want this and nouveau needs no vote
it gets by without hope