Sourdough

Wrote a couple words in my little black book
A little verse to make a little thing seem good
May I speak these now and never hold my silence
The balance in the guidance you heard misunderstood
Never ever said I should have been a demigod
But I got a feeling that the rest have been and gone
Ever sat and wondered why the sky is painted blue
I think about the lack of food and what we done to get along
Made of lies a throne upon which sits a villain
Sanitise a cry to make the money worth the living
Like a wage that covered all of what we needed
In reality it didn’t
It’s a fiscal fallacy
I ain’t kidding
I find it fakery I’ll do our bidding
like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling
I find it fakery, I’ll do our bidding
Like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling
Everyday we’re living and we’re heading for the top
Never said we couldn’t and I never wanna stop
Hell of a felon to sever several ties to heaven
Ellen degeneres in degenerate development
Lines are quite irrelevant when evidently blind
A maleficent sign
Of an elephant crying
In the corner of a room considered fine
Boredom is all we have to pass the time
High reverence
For celebrities and beverages
And conversations centring on selfridges and other high street chains
Engrossed in chat
We step over the homeless guy who owns a hat
And nothing else the wealth dictates a state of mind
We know we gotta vote to change but the fake survives
The wealth dictates a state of mind
We know we gotta vote to change but the fake survives
I find it fakery, I’ll do our bidding
Like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling
I find it fakery, I’ll do our bidding
Like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling
Our next best claim to the throne might be Boris
But eventually change
Is supersonic zoning in an Aeroplane
Over a forest
Only it’s made of ash and there’s cash grown from it
And we profit from melodic bass lines
And face times if I’m honest
I take time to make my place nice
Hey! Why’s a guy in office
Not providing or delivering
On his promise it’s abhorrent an economy
That is made of pounds and dollars and rockets and I got trees
In my pockets and they’re onto me
Police state of hypocrisy
What’s the cost gotta be?
Just more lives and crime is fighting for your life sometimes
But I don’t vibe possibly
With the fact that we lack rights
And acts of policies
Stack the odds back to minorities
Honesty is the best policy
Some man sneeze cos of pollen seeds
Others on their knees
Cos injustice is all they receive
A state of mind that differs invariably
I place a rhyme and tip toe through the pixels warily
I find it fakery, I’ll do our bidding
Like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling
I find it fakery, I’ll do our bidding
Like a bakery after dough
We kneading
Stacks to the ceiling, oh
We just needing
The right place to be chilling
It’s more than a feeling