"Houston...[scrkkk] Houston... do you have a condom?
we're fucked out here with no space or time to continuum."
Um, how many blondes does it take to screw or solder
in a microcomputer? To the moon Alice, we're consumed
with reaching new highs and Haights for the users.
We'll never bury the Ashes beneath our bedsheets,
the feds think dreams are all they can shatter unless we
beat them to the punch, cue the spike in mercury rising.
There's no certainty of the I in Cr[I'm]e when machines
do the time. Had us believing the streets were clean...
it was just the money that needed laundering; broadening
the police sweeps with eagle tipped wings in flight.
Recite your rights to the children who picked the wrong fights;
the cause was polite, like launching sky rocket's delight.
This afternoon viewers felt cartooned, seeing silver spoons
in smooth orbit (or did they "sort of" forge it?) Who knew
if you'd drink milk you too could jump over the silk-screen ruse.
Spring the clues, only may-days would pay.. say, a million youths?
I bet drug dealers confused their hand and charged cards at large,
playing with our stars behind bars; how fars the discourse
when you draw a powdered white line to divide a black universe.
"I'm sorry officer.. I offered her mars; in return I sat, earned
a few dollars for holdin'," egos blowing smoke rings out uranus.
Fame: it's yours, ain't it? Take everything I own, restrain trust.
Can't beat the solar system; engines combust, but cops must
patrol those on parole chasin' for a trace of that angel's dust.