EVERY NIGHT I SPIT A BIT

stimulus response model

wild days where to be
to hear people smile
I care not to survive but nothing more
to change alive
to clear a mind
and when we are gone
self-enjoy a storm
when the brain’s long ways are way up gone
believing in troubles
a figure but no murders
worth love losing
doing math’s double troubles
to escape the soloist
we thank you that much
to smile with a face
your dead man can touch