DR_P.

I ain't mad at nobody, man Perhaps the infinite sadness Is just a chance to put my mask up A glance into the sun makes me think I'm the only one Then, we all stop and gawk a the chalk, Or let's talk about it, This is how it is in Manhattan, If you happen to have Instagram Damn, what happened; A phantom, this grandson “Lets have something for the fans, perchance; Laugh, sit your ass in this grass and just— Have some fun, before you come back to Now, I've forgotten what I came for— If I came for nothing, But I came for something, I thought I'm two trains from Manhattan ::pause— You did this with your music. Damn. This really made you famous? Damn—- Is it the same god we pray to? Damn— So everyone's in pain, too? Well, thank you Words are my art, So let me paint you And maybe one day, I can make a breakthrough And not hate you For making it before me, But I ain't you I'm just a crazy lady Making bass tunes (Fuck it, I forgot I was at work, too) —I make music. Amusing Woah, my bad, I forgot my manners I'm rude Sitting in the grass, just trying not to have an attitude Last semester of fame school, Guess this is the aptitude test Gotta get it off my chest It's heavy, like imm getting arrested Man, fuck New York for this exact reason: WHERE THE FUCK AM I AT? [a bike cart rolls by playing the song “New York” ] Very funny, God. But God does have a sense of humor, doesn't it? Or rather, don't they. Then we kiss at the cathedral Forgive this unlimited revision Like a splitter in the center of my mind's eye Who summoned the suburban Jimmy Fallon; Ah, at last we have: An actor, and a masterpiece Imagined as the past starts throwing tantrums at us. Fuck you, Dillon Francis That's all I got. For now That, an half a watermelon, A sad Amethyst and a disinterest in empathy Or the internet, for starters, God It's laundry day Al that for $10 and The coffee'swearing off I should get this tattoo removed Like a mirror, looking into you To speak the truth, I see through you Nothing to do now but Screw you—- If we're keeping it G-rated Yep, I hate you Humbly, I'm just a fan Gathered in the park, all for your honor And not Time's square Cause who goes there anymore, anyway Beware, the sacred master Silver spoon and tales of Who the fuck cares Miss, Hand me another corona Quick, before the song is over And I start just feeling sorry for myself Whoever I am Nothing ever hurts as bad as Trying just to love, but can't Your skin is white— And mine is black But I think we feel the same Extr me decadence dance A&M God knows I love a good rockstar But I didn't know that who you were Or who you are Can't trust you as far as I could throw you And I bet I could throw pretty far Vixen- edge of a broken heart I'm a broken car It's a broken art In a broken world I'm a broken fart —with reverb. I had an amethyst in my right hand, and The police man thought it was a gun That's funny, huh I thought “I'll run up to him for a hug, drunkenly— “ Screaming, “Put your hands up, Fuck the 50 50-51!” With any luck, He's corrupt enough And I'm finally done With all the suffering I don't need a gun I don't even want one; They'll do it all for me Just pick the right one I had an amerhyst in my right hand. /‘s The police man thought it was a gun That's funny, huh No one runs the government {Enter The Multiverse} [ The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū. I