Podcasts about for whatever reason

I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally deceptive Almost loveless, unless God exists Unless I'm God again —wait, who is this Houdini? Another stream of conciousness. Another scream, Another seemingly endless dream Or nightmare, of circumstances if Circles dance in corner's The coroner's report read: m m m A chain reaction, A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen I stand corrected; God bless your blue eyed girlfriend; As if God already hadn't Having fun yet? Never have an never did And I couldn't never wish on falling stars, Cause I don't believe in them, A symptom of a syndrome, Paliondrome, a solar plexus Another social deficit— ‘At least he's not in special Ed' An inspiration On your mark, And on my honor I'm still partially retarded But you started it, God What an awful deposit I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk And not exist Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm— I gawked at what I thought was a fararri. But it's not, it's a Porsche And I still want it —m m — What if all I want was All that you were born with And all I ever worked for was Something that just happened What a trip What inequality is Tranquility, nah fuck it Born and bred Brooklyn, And stopping on Sutphin, Taking to Satan Crushing his cigarette Yes, I remember I'll always remember The infinite immigrants Multiple languages And how I hate Cause I just speak English and Spanish And music But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross But I'm focused on fitness WTT is this dude wearing A Muscle shirt Uh huh With no muscles Okay Some— what are those— Dry fit swimming trunks Lol And— Oh shit! With matching crocs! HAHA. Even the socks match! He is luxury. For certain. Take it easy; I'm up in a tree— But you can't see me If it don't make money; Then the can't make time Fuck Brooklyn Too many white girls I should stay out in queens; Where everybody is a nigger like me— And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King, Chowing down on a pizza Like fuck it Nobody loves me, I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life If she looks at me one more time all spiteful I'mma die tonight —but at least I'll die an idol Or icon Come on, God— Why you follow me Looking like a blonde And I'm just a hippopotamus Never woulda thought of this If I didn't have my heart In the bottom of my pocket Next to pocketbook, I keep instead of wallet, Full of business cards Just another day at the office Demoted from Equinox, —but all the dollars go to the number one Anyway “Don't get hit by a bus” That's all that God told me. Before she ran off It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was Put your hands around my neck —. I'll sign all the proper paperwork; This is my consent, Consignment, or resentment— Never would have guessed For a pleasure better than this. Cross it off my wishlist Sealed it with a kiss, I might remember to forget If you forgive Me Hunger with a pitchfork I love to love New York I was a big fish in a little pond before Get the picture; Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger Better yet a shark It's better after dark I love you harder in the car— Be careful, (((Fear))) Why'd you have to be a star? Why'd you write love on your arms? Are you a martyr Here it is again, The infinite sadness Rush hour— Manhattan And I never had it So trapped in my mind; Rewind just to find The cue point It's you right? Cupid, or Balcazar, Whatever you are Whatever I was Whatever Here it goes again The automatic writing The undercover cops In New York Are up to something What is it I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally deceptive Almost loveless, unless God exists Unless I'm God again —wait, who is this Houdini? Another stream of conciousness. Another scream, Another seemingly endless dream Or nightmare, of circumstances if Circles dance in corner's The coroner's report read: m m m A chain reaction, A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen I stand corrected; God bless your blue eyed girlfriend; As if God already hadn't Having fun yet? Never have an never did And I couldn't never wish on falling stars, Cause I don't believe in them, A symptom of a syndrome, Paliondrome, a solar plexus Another social deficit— ‘At least he's not in special Ed' An inspiration On your mark, And on my honor I'm still partially retarded But you started it, God What an awful deposit I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk And not exist Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm— I gawked at what I thought was a fararri. But it's not, it's a Porsche And I still want it —m m — What if all I want was All that you were born with And all I ever worked for was Something that just happened What a trip What inequality is Tranquility, nah fuck it Born and bred Brooklyn, And stopping on Sutphin, Taking to Satan Crushing his cigarette Yes, I remember I'll always remember The infinite immigrants Multiple languages And how I hate Cause I just speak English and Spanish And music But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross But I'm focused on fitness WTT is this dude wearing A Muscle shirt Uh huh With no muscles Okay Some— what are those— Dry fit swimming trunks Lol And— Oh shit! With matching crocs! HAHA. Even the socks match! He is luxury. For certain. Take it easy; I'm up in a tree— But you can't see me If it don't make money; Then the can't make time Fuck Brooklyn Too many white girls I should stay out in queens; Where everybody is a nigger like me— And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King, Chowing down on a pizza Like fuck it Nobody loves me, I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life If she looks at me one more time all spiteful I'mma die tonight —but at least I'll die an idol Or icon Come on, God— Why you follow me Looking like a blonde And I'm just a hippopotamus Never woulda thought of this If I didn't have my heart In the bottom of my pocket Next to pocketbook, I keep instead of wallet, Full of business cards Just another day at the office Demoted from Equinox, —but all the dollars go to the number one Anyway “Don't get hit by a bus” That's all that God told me. Before she ran off It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was Put your hands around my neck —. I'll sign all the proper paperwork; This is my consent, Consignment, or resentment— Never would have guessed For a pleasure better than this. Cross it off my wishlist Sealed it with a kiss, I might remember to forget If you forgive Me Hunger with a pitchfork I love to love New York I was a big fish in a little pond before Get the picture; Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger Better yet a shark It's better after dark I love you harder in the car— Be careful, (((Fear))) Why'd you have to be a star? Why'd you write love on your arms? Are you a martyr Here it is again, The infinite sadness Rush hour— Manhattan And I never had it So trapped in my mind; Rewind just to find The cue point It's you right? Cupid, or Balcazar, Whatever you are Whatever I was Whatever Here it goes again The automatic writing The undercover cops In New York Are up to something What is it I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally deceptive Almost loveless, unless God exists Unless I'm God again —wait, who is this Houdini? Another stream of conciousness. Another scream, Another seemingly endless dream Or nightmare, of circumstances if Circles dance in corner's The coroner's report read: m m m A chain reaction, A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen I stand corrected; God bless your blue eyed girlfriend; As if God already hadn't Having fun yet? Never have an never did And I couldn't never wish on falling stars, Cause I don't believe in them, A symptom of a syndrome, Paliondrome, a solar plexus Another social deficit— ‘At least he's not in special Ed' An inspiration On your mark, And on my honor I'm still partially retarded But you started it, God What an awful deposit I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk And not exist Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm— I gawked at what I thought was a fararri. But it's not, it's a Porsche And I still want it —m m — What if all I want was All that you were born with And all I ever worked for was Something that just happened What a trip What inequality is Tranquility, nah fuck it Born and bred Brooklyn, And stopping on Sutphin, Taking to Satan Crushing his cigarette Yes, I remember I'll always remember The infinite immigrants Multiple languages And how I hate Cause I just speak English and Spanish And music But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross But I'm focused on fitness WTT is this dude wearing A Muscle shirt Uh huh With no muscles Okay Some— what are those— Dry fit swimming trunks Lol And— Oh shit! With matching crocs! HAHA. Even the socks match! He is luxury. For certain. Take it easy; I'm up in a tree— But you can't see me If it don't make money; Then the can't make time Fuck Brooklyn Too many white girls I should stay out in queens; Where everybody is a nigger like me— And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King, Chowing down on a pizza Like fuck it Nobody loves me, I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life If she looks at me one more time all spiteful I'mma die tonight —but at least I'll die an idol Or icon Come on, God— Why you follow me Looking like a blonde And I'm just a hippopotamus Never woulda thought of this If I didn't have my heart In the bottom of my pocket Next to pocketbook, I keep instead of wallet, Full of business cards Just another day at the office Demoted from Equinox, —but all the dollars go to the number one Anyway “Don't get hit by a bus” That's all that God told me. Before she ran off It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was Put your hands around my neck —. I'll sign all the proper paperwork; This is my consent, Consignment, or resentment— Never would have guessed For a pleasure better than this. Cross it off my wishlist Sealed it with a kiss, I might remember to forget If you forgive Me Hunger with a pitchfork I love to love New York I was a big fish in a little pond before Get the picture; Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger Better yet a shark It's better after dark I love you harder in the car— Be careful, (((Fear))) Why'd you have to be a star? Why'd you write love on your arms? Are you a martyr Here it is again, The infinite sadness Rush hour— Manhattan And I never had it So trapped in my mind; Rewind just to find The cue point It's you right? Cupid, or Balcazar, Whatever you are Whatever I was Whatever Here it goes again The automatic writing The undercover cops In New York Are up to something What is it I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Never felt so alone1- But got God on my shoulder She's got art on her; Better send him packing. I'm not asking you for a favor I'm not asking for anything l l Call it a theatre or maybe insanity Cathedral or sanctuary, actually Maybe I'll finally be happy l l l Be between the lines Can't imagine what I'd find in you. Cover my eyes Is it over yet Calling me out Or I'm over it Under the Sun but another one, Wonderful world is unconscious The come up from nothin is morally deceptive Almost loveless, unless God exists Unless I'm God again —wait, who is this Houdini? Another stream of conciousness. Another scream, Another seemingly endless dream Or nightmare, of circumstances if Circles dance in corner's The coroner's report read: m m m A chain reaction, A form fitting fortress that falls apart, marginally I can't imagine anything I haven't like let seen I stand corrected; God bless your blue eyed girlfriend; As if God already hadn't Having fun yet? Never have an never did And I couldn't never wish on falling stars, Cause I don't believe in them, A symptom of a syndrome, Paliondrome, a solar plexus Another social deficit— ‘At least he's not in special Ed' An inspiration On your mark, And on my honor I'm still partially retarded But you started it, God What an awful deposit I wanted just to sit on the crosswalk And not exist Aww, don't cry Kelly— mmm— I gawked at what I thought was a fararri. But it's not, it's a Porsche And I still want it —m m — What if all I want was All that you were born with And all I ever worked for was Something that just happened What a trip What inequality is Tranquility, nah fuck it Born and bred Brooklyn, And stopping on Sutphin, Taking to Satan Crushing his cigarette Yes, I remember I'll always remember The infinite immigrants Multiple languages And how I hate Cause I just speak English and Spanish And music But I'm still homeless and lonely and gross But I'm focused on fitness WTT is this dude wearing A Muscle shirt Uh huh With no muscles Okay Some— what are those— Dry fit swimming trunks Lol And— Oh shit! With matching crocs! HAHA. Even the socks match! He is luxury. For certain. Take it easy; I'm up in a tree— But you can't see me If it don't make money; Then the can't make time Fuck Brooklyn Too many white girls I should stay out in queens; Where everybody is a nigger like me— And iMm only getting bigger by the minute, man mi asked to be the King, Chowing down on a pizza Like fuck it Nobody loves me, I'll probably be mean for the rest of my life If she looks at me one more time all spiteful I'mma die tonight —but at least I'll die an idol Or icon Come on, God— Why you follow me Looking like a blonde And I'm just a hippopotamus Never woulda thought of this If I didn't have my heart In the bottom of my pocket Next to pocketbook, I keep instead of wallet, Full of business cards Just another day at the office Demoted from Equinox, —but all the dollars go to the number one Anyway “Don't get hit by a bus” That's all that God told me. Before she ran off It was the strangest and quietest subway ride of all time—even more strange and more quiet than usual; like a silent movie, the entire world seemed muted, and thought I had my headphones tightly over my ears, nothing played and nothing would, at least for the moment; it was Put your hands around my neck —. I'll sign all the proper paperwork; This is my consent, Consignment, or resentment— Never would have guessed For a pleasure better than this. Cross it off my wishlist Sealed it with a kiss, I might remember to forget If you forgive Me Hunger with a pitchfork I love to love New York I was a big fish in a little pond before Get the picture; Now I'm a dolphin getting bigger Better yet a shark It's better after dark I love you harder in the car— Be careful, (((Fear))) Why'd you have to be a star? Why'd you write love on your arms? Are you a martyr Here it is again, The infinite sadness Rush hour— Manhattan And I never had it So trapped in my mind; Rewind just to find The cue point It's you right? Cupid, or Balcazar, Whatever you are Whatever I was Whatever Here it goes again The automatic writing The undercover cops In New York Are up to something What is it I'm having a really hard day; I'm having a really hard time I'm having a really hard time— Yeah, I've lived a really long life Sometimes the truth is just.lies, Sometimes, I can't close my eyes I'm having a really long day I'm having a really long life I wanted to sleep early and rise closer to dawn, to of course get the most out of my day and make up for the one I had lost, wandering around hungrier than usual, dehydrated, and spinning round, wound up and feeling more than anxious, not quite manic as I was wholeheartedly drained, but still off—and undoubtedly the reason why had to of course have been my surroundings—I wasn't entirely yet a product of my environment, but on my way to it; it had been 17 days of disgusting toilets, cold and shivering nights dressed in layers and covered in blankets, but still cold enough near the window that my nose was always cold, unless I suffocated myself covering my face; everything was dirty, everyone was sick and tired, and the misery of homelessness had settled in long enough now that I couldn't care any less about myself ‘Are you capable of keeping this nation's secrets?' ‘Probably—but I wouldn't want to.' Deathwish>< Secret President I beg your pardon? You already know enough of them that you should be dead by now. So what's your excuse for keeping me around? You realize you're just a front-man for all this crazy shit we do around here? I—don't care. Are you drunk? No, I'm unconscious Living in this multidimensionality had allowed me to continue writing in such a way that everything I did and said held it's purpose, even if it was uncomfortable or terrible—not that I was exempt from suffering a guilty conscience, as I had still been raised with a sense of good and bad and right and wrong, and even upon understanding that these are just contrucfs, the bitter truth of the matter was that I, or any man, could only truly be trusted with the well-being of one's self and one's own interests, which might as well have been the best interests of this nation, my own stolen country —the American way had always been to escape oppression, only to run elsewhere and take what was needed to ensure one's own freedom; ‘so what of the spirits of the indegenous, then', whose blood continued to run through me no matter how cold or relentless. It's a trap. It's all a trap. I had been crucified in a number of ways, triggered, kept awake, left out in the cold, toyed with and trapped, psychologically terrori Now I'm confused (I'm so confused) Now I'm confused I'm so-confused Now I'm confused (I'm so cofused) Now I'm “I'm so — What the ruck am I looking at right now? Uhhh….. What are you doing? I don't know I'm so confused I'm still confused I'm confused 8'm still confused IMm so confused— I'm still confused Well. If you wanna come back for your shot, I'll be here. What are you doing. Can you not LOOK I'm just so sick of myself I'm just so tired of this world I don't wanna wake up no more No money, no problem More money, more problems Promise Got a soul full of woes Got no eyes on the prize Got no home And no hope for the world Gotta go on Still got my feet on the floor Gotta go on Still got no road to the coast Gotta go on I guess I'm still a ghost Gotta go on I got no love left no more Gotta go on Jesus Christ and all the sauce. ALL THE SAUCE. Not all the sauce. I want ALL OF IT. Lol he's like foaming at the mouth, right? I— Check it out. I told you the government could time travelZ. What. So they used Skrillex to — To do what. UNCLE SAM I WANT YOU— ALL OF IT. UNCLE SAM — what. What does Uncle Sam want? Idk. The charges dropped? Idk. If he thinks you're lying—he's lying If he thinks you're cheating—he's cheating If he thinks that you're leaving—he's thinking of leaving If he thinks that you need him; he probably needs you If it feels like you're dreaming, you're probably dreaming— If it feels like a fairytale, keep make believing Too good to be true will always have a meaning If you think you're his only; Then there's at least three There's no loyalty, here Men don't have no monogamy Men get fed up with the same thing, Monotony Being a man is just making monopolies No propositions, proposals or probablies God got you fucked up when you're ugly God got you fucked up for the fun of it God might make promises, But it's no wonder, There's love in her eyes But there's nothing left under No wonder. No wonder No wonder No love left No love left No love left No love left No wonder All out of water and oneness All out of reasons to smile All out out running the mile And thinking you add up to something g No wonder No wonder No wonder the world's out of water No wonder No trophies for breaking the cycle Unless you become one And still, you end up in the cycle Unlikely you'll find the one You might as well just go back To the one that owns you Who's dragging your son through the mud Yeah But he's crying for you No wonder No wonder No wonder the worlds out of water No uncle, no aunt, and no cousins to clothe you or house you You might have a mountain, if you could just tell the whole world that you come from here No hope for the humans No wonder no water was left here The ocean was rust and the tides had subsided The water receded And LA was left on her own I don't owe an explanation for this insanity I haven't had a man in a million galaxies It's not that bad, Now I dress all in black Take it back for the countryman Nobody loves me, man. I'm just alone and befuddled, I wanted to love,, but— Somebody's coughing and keeping this contract of nothing and loveless and homeless; And there's where I've been, man How's Paris? I should be embarrassed, But really I'm just regressing again, Depressed as I've ever been, But taking a lesson in mischievous methods And Devious determination to get back to LA and say “I finally made it”, And get my makeup on, And my hair fixed, And pay off my high rise apartment Where the AC ain't on, cause I like it hotter than heaven Cause Hell is a cold ass, lonely Soapless, hopeless, homeless shelter Where nobody loves you And nobody calls you on your birthdays anyway So you moved it to August Cause you'll never see Skrillex or Jimmy Fallon in person, But for some reason, You think of them Fondly. —For Whatever Reason. Fuck this. Somebody's onto me; Wrote a letter to God, But God's not answering Trust me, You don't want this ugly thing Under you Don't offer me a house key If you give a mouse a cookie; You probably outta poison it Oh! In a world of smoke and mirrors Everything gets clearer, clearer He really is rare though, Really— a limited edition Genius, Edison You don't deserve him I don't want to be the president, Don't want to be the President Hey, Oh! It's still hell here; I'll never be perfect Can starve, but won't be there Woah! It's trauma every night And Drama every morning This is not a warning It's a lesson that you're learning And a song that you're writing; You can't write this wrong, no— You don't belong in this world, So get off it Oh, Woah, I don't do this often But I just don't want to go home, That's just loveless Ten broken marriages, Coffins and caskets And lions and scarecrows— He won't take me back for this basket I don't wear a bonnet I'm done being honest! It doesn't get you ahead in this Better off dead and I'm still just a nigger— I've always been lost; But I've already been here I've already been here Caught it on camera, eh Undercover tape recording Never in the locker room, But never in my own roomX either I'm just another one of those Broken, Homeless I don't want to I don't want to Want to be the President YOU CONTROL THE POLICE— —I RUN THE AMBULANXE, BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE BITCH, I RUN THE AMBULANCE Fuxk a phantom Fuck your Grammy's mammogram Fuxk you ambivolance and nonchalance You're just the ops, I run the ambulance! I just saw Johnny wirh the two dogs, At the shop and shop Pop-pop, This ain't no pop-up, lol My whole surfboard is taller This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you want This is what you want This is This is what you Don't waste your time Asking for adderall They don't want help for you— MedicicineMa meant to destroy you All the black skin In the streets In the shelters On the trains and On the busses The niggers on seroquel They will not help you They want to kill you Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you Adderal, xanex; It might be addictive— But those with blue eyes Are the only ones who get —they don't even need it They turn around and sell it If you have black skin; They'll give you seoquel They want to kill you; You'll think you're all better But you're out in the streets, in the gutter Talking to yourself Pissing on yourself Scratching off your black skin- All because you're colored! If you look like Elohim, Go ahead, take the medicine; Yes, you'll feel better; You'll get to work with Skrillex They'll give you an amphetamine, So you feel less pathetic Finish projects, Transcendence Don't take the medicine If you have black skin They will not help you They want to kill you But if you've got black skin You're only a nigger/**trigger to them Take the medicine To kill you faster Kill you faster Finally an ever after That makes sense to you bastards {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2023 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -U.

Due to popular demand, Dave and Ethan AGAIN present an interview Ethan recorded in October 2011 with Weird Al's longtime (and now Grammy-Winning!) guitar player, Jim "Kimo" West, to promote their Albany, NY appearance on The Alpocalypse Tour!

If you ever feel stuck, and can't seem to get to your goals FOR WHATEVER REASON, there are methods and steps you can follow - and my framework is just one of dozens - you don't have to choose mine, but you really should choose at least one that you like. I break everything down into six categories, and you can compare your current situation to the list and see where you might be able to step up your game, break through the barrier, and get closer to your dream. Buy Me A Coffee!The Ideas and Concepts Mastermind (Facebook Group) SecondMix.net matt@secondmix.net

Self Worth.You Weren't Stupid For Getting Into And Stuck In A Bad Relationship And Situations,You Just Didn't Love Yourself Enough To See Your Worth.Forgive Your Younger Self For Thinking So Little Of You.From Now On, Move Forward In Life, With Love

There Are Certain Clubs, That We Are Lucky Enough To Be A Part Of, Without Having To Pay A Sign-Up Fee, Or Annual Membership Contributions - The Clubs We Really Like, Seem To Take More Out Of Us, Than They Actually Feed Into Our Well Being - The Bruddas & Sistaz Club, Can Sometimes Take A Lot Out Of Us Too, In It's Own Way, But We Can't Hide From The Perks We Gain Access To, When We Are Welcomed Into Such A Society; Where Our Unique Connections, Run Beyond Our Bloodlines, Social Status, Or Ethnicity; A Club Designed To Give Back, More Than It Takes In... I Learned, Through My Relationship With My Older Sister, How One Needs To Care For, And Tend To, That Lifetime Bond Of Fellowship, With Our Brothers, And Sisters, More Consciously - It's A Relationship, That Doesn't Begin, Or End, With Blood Relatives; A Fellowship That Knows No Bounds - When We Live With Such Love In Our Hearts; For Ourselves, Our Sisters, And Our Brothers; We Begin To Sow Seeds Of Love, In The Spaces Where Love Was Previously Being Stopped From Reaching, For Whatever Reason... Love, Covers Over A Multitude Of Sins, And Provides A Peace, That Transcends All Understanding. Love Deeply, Love Eternally, Love Transparently. Love 2ruly. #TheBruddas&SistazClub #ForPersonalUseOnly #17 #LoudBoothPodcastNetwork #SuperCreativeFC --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/fpuopodcast/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/fpuopodcast/support

To All My Momma's Babies, May Our Mothers Live To See Us Be The Men We Were Born To Be.

The gang is back and pretty fucking drunk. Adam and Ambrea hang in there along with Dane. Keith skypes in for the show. Drunken Louisiana songs sent in from Tim from Letter Seventeen and For Whatever Reason. Top 25 Classic Rock Albums. Keith's three legged dog. Everybody tries to help Sam keep going. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Thank you all for listening...we really mean that...you keep us going.

The gang is back and hitting the beer at a good pace. Doc has a family emergency and can't make the podcast. Dane is going to do the RPM Challenge and Sam is leaning towards doing it. Keith is still waiting for more horsepower. A real hot beefstick is passed around between the guys (you can take that anyway you want). Andy Samford does The Partridge Family. The guys listen to some Crumudgeon with The Gunk UK. Saturday Morning TV from years gone by. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Feel free to leave anything you like on the Insignificast Facebook page. Hear Andy Samford at electricminnowmusic.com. Hear Crumudgeon and The Gunk UK on facebook and listen to the Gunkcast podcast. Check out the Letter Seventeen podcast and dig on the music. Also check out our friend Manny The Mailmans Special Delivery podcast and also our friends at Static Radio. And of course the For Whatever Reason podcast. Thanks for listening.

The gang is back and boy-o-boy are they drunk. For some reason there is a lot of talk about condiments. Doc has trouble figuring out when he should talk. There is a little Gunk UK music and some News. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. E-mail at insignificast@gmail.com. On Twitter Sam is Samtard and Doc is DoctorDoc. Check out The Gunk UK on Gunkcast. Listen to Static Radio and For Whatever Reason. Thanks for listening.

The gang is back and sheep are nervous. Tim and Nanette from For Whatever Reason send some swag. Keith gets his Z/28 stuck on a pipe. Dane has family coming over. Sam is getting investigated. Doc tries to do Ask Dr. Doc. Keith is a Mallrat. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Thanks for listening.

The gang is back...just a day late. Dane is going to Cajun Village. Carnies are Breaking Bad. Doc does the News. Nanette from the For Whatever Reason podcast sends in some audio from Keith and Sam's childhood. The podcast is a bit late because Sam, Dane, and Ern had a Crappy Movie Night Wednesday and Sam went staight to bed after. That much crap at one time takes it's toll(Sherlock Holmes' Smarter Brother, Teeth, Pee Wee's Big Adventure etc.). Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Listen to For Whatever Reason. Listen for the hidden track on the latest Gunkcast. Bob has a fowl chicken story on the latest Static Radio podcast. Fine musical instruments are used on the Letter Seventeen podcast. Thanks for listening.

The gang is back and dive right into the booze and meds. That eternal question is pondered,"What does one use to get high in jail?" Manny The Mailman from the Special Delivery podcast manages to sum up Insignificast history in one song. Bob sends tales of an award winning penis. The new Letter Seventeen (Tim from the For Whatever Reason podcast) CD is out and available to download for free at letterseventeen.com. This one is not all about Doc but the guys still muster up a bit of inspiration. See the S&D guitar Sam and Doc built for Tim on YouTube just type in Insignifigift. Sam gets poked and prodded by the medical industry. Call the comment line @ (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com and leave comments at insignificast.libsyn.com. Skype Insignificast betweem 9pm and 2am central Saturday's. Check out Special Delivery and For Whatever Reason. Download Snowbound at letterseventeen.com. They guys give it major fuckidies. It really is an impressive piece of work...the guitars sound pretty damn good.

The gang is back and taking the podcast to new lows. Sams back is really screwed up after an early morning blowout over the Henderson Swamp so he reaches for the hard stuff. Sam is so high on Oxycontin that he will not let anyone drag the show into the realm of good taste. There is some Doc News and some Stats and Facts. There are many disturbing things said about young children, human flesh, people of all races, vaginas, and Miley Cyrus. Thank God for quality prescription medication and beer. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. Get all the Insignificast bands music at the Insignificast community page on Facebook. Just click on Band profile. Tim from For Whatever Reason walked me through setting up the wall properly, so now you can post anything you want there. Skype Insignificast between 9pm and 2am central Saturday's. Thanks for listening.

The gang is still drinking and podcasting with Tim and Nanette from For Whatever Reason. Dane went to the midnight screening of the Harry Potter movie. You can't get sporting goods at dicks.com. There is some Stats and Facts. Doc finally comes clean on the whole story of,"The Raid." For some strange reason everyone breaks into song on,"Someone's Knocking At The Door." Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. Skype Insignificast between 9:00pm and 2:00am central Saturday's. Check out Tim and Nanette at forwhateverreason.net. Thanks for listening.

The guys welcome Tim and Nanette from the For Whatever Reason podcast for a lot of beer and some turkey pies. Pierre is going to let Doc cut off his very long hair for locks of love. Doc gets to a little bit of News. Sam and Doc finish a guitar for friend of the show Andy. Tim and Nanette do Ask Dr. Doc. There is also a touching story about the family cucumber. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. Skype Insignificast between 9pm and 2am central Saturday's. Check out the For Whatever Reason podcast. Thanks for listening.

The gang is joined by Tim from the For Whatever Reason podcast for some alchohol and tomfoolery. Tim finds out about some of Docs brushes with the law back in Odessa Texas. Sam's back to doing the shows standing up. Dane is getting ready for his gig thats coming up. Pierre is having some school troubles and Tim and Nanette are planning a visit to Louisiana. Mostly  just alot of drinking and fun conversation. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. Skype Insignificast between 9:00pm and 2:00am central Saturday's. Thanks for listening.

The gang gathers to give shelter to those fleeing The Great Georgia War. Tim and Nanette from the For Whatever Reason podcast show up in time for some homemade boudin (pronounced boo-dan with a silent n) which is a Cajun delicacy. It is made with pig parts and chicken parts mixed with rice and stuffed into sausage casing. I will spare you what parts are used. Once everybody settles in for some podcasting we realized we had a house full of booze. We did what you would expect from three Cajuns, a Texan, and a Californian. We drank like there was no tomorrow. We had a great time...I even remember some of it. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. Check out For Whatever Reason. Thanks for listening.

Even though Sam and Doc think it's Episode 222 it is Episode 223. Doc has a series of mowing problems. Keith is waiting on his wife to get ready so he skypes in before he heads to see ZOSO. Bob from Static Radio gives us and Tim from For Whatever Reason a mention on his Commutr podcast. There is some Doc News. The government admits Kentucky grows great weed. New Orleans loves lesbians. Doc doesn't like Roxy Music. There is a little bit of Stats and Facts and of course it all leads to lawn jockeys. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Feel free to skype Insignificast between 9:00pm and 2:00am Saturdays. Visit insignificast.com. Thanks for listening.

The gang is back together for much beer and much talk. The talk turns to the latest S&D Guitar built for Tim of For Whatever Reason podcast fame. You can check out the guitar and Tim's reaction on video at forwhateverreason.net and on YouTube. We have a bit of Doc News and enjoy a Vaporizer Christmas. You can see Dan "The Nerd" Boudreaux's Videocast TWIN (This Week in Nerdom) with Pallydan on YouTube. It is a webcast about all things nerdy. Call the comment line at (206) 309-7308. Visit insignificast.com. On twitter Doc is doctordoc and Sam is samtard. You can hear Keith at stopyourbitchin.com. Thanks for listening.

The long awaited 10th show is finally here. With Tim from the world famous For Whatever Reason podcast keeping the show mistake free, Ken e-mails to say the show can get you laid if you just start bitchin', C.B. doubles his comment line pleasure, and Sam is pissed at horny old men. Find out all about pareidolla, and what the hell is happening to podcasts. To join in the fun call the comment line at (206) 350-0592, or send your e-mails to show@stopyourbitchin.com.

Listen now or subscribe to the podcast feed! NOTE: Our apologies for some audio issues - We didn't catch them ahead of time and re-recording was not an option. We'd rather share this episode with you as it is than go another month without one! An explanation for our absence (and is it a doozy). We address smears against our character related to In-N-Out Burger. A slight freak out about minivans. We discover Five Guys burgers. Bex does a Pac-Man impression. Karen from PediaScribe rocks. And so does Left 4 Dead. Music: "Close Your Eyes" by The Double Yellow, courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network Intro Music: "Pocketbook" by Derek K Miller Outro Music: "Remember Hope" by Farewell Redemption Podcasts Mentioned: Love Long and Prosper Tech Talk For Families A Geek and His Wife Geek Acres 365 Tao For Whatever Reason Feedback: Feel free to e-mail us at WickedGoodPodcast|at|gmail.com or call us at 206-600-MASS(6277)!

We start this show with Sam getting on, and getting off on Charlie's Angels. There is a little talk about the Presidential Debates. Tim and Nanette from For Whatever Reason revued Sam's beer, and he might send them more. Doc and Keith have some news for you. Call us at (206) 309-7308, of e-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

It's back to basics for this show. Keith, Sam, and Doc wish the For Whatever Reason podcast a happy one year anniversary with an e-mail from Tim, and conversation about the relationship with Tim and Nanette. The guys remember the great George Carlin, and do some news. Call us up at (206) 309-7308, or send e-mails to show@insignificast.com.

Sam mixes up a couple of shots during this show, That with the beer makes for a pretty loose show. We hear a little more about Doc's time spent in New York. Nanette from For Whatever Reason sent us a couple of e-mails, one of which leads to some talk about a couple of local restaurants. There is also some stupid news, and audio. We finish with a song from The Gumbo Brothers. Go to cdbaby.com to get their cd's. Leave us a comment at (206) 309-7308, or e-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

Sam is cooking beef tonight, and he has a surprise for Doc. He not only has ordered a copy of Captain Lust, which Doc appeared in, he also found a copy of the movie poster. Doc tells us a little more about his trip to New York to do a sexy magazine shoot and an x-rated movie. Just when we thought we were done with the absinthe it pulls us back in. We have some e-mails, and a call from Tim from For Whatever Reason. Bob from Washington sends a picture and funny audio. We finish with The Gumbo Brothers. Get their cd's at cdbaby.com. Call us at (206) 309-7308, or e-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

Due to illness our President's Day show is a bit late. Along with our salute to our brave leader, Sam has brought us some of the world's finest bourbon to try. Keith talks about his trip to New Orleans, and Doc says that the Kid Rock show was a smash hit. We also have a call from Tim and Nanette from For Whatever Reason, and a few funny audio clips. We go out with songs from The Gumbo Brothers. Give us a call at (206)309-7308. E-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

On this show we find out what Doc has been doing since we recorded our last shows three weeks ago. Then we find out everything about Sam's back surgery and recovery. We also talk about what we got for Christmas. Doc has a list of bowl games, and there is booze (big surprise). Sound clips include one from For Whatever Reason, Meekeekee calls in, and a special one from the Insignificast archives. Find out about our Cajun accent contest. You can win some crap by just calling us at (206) 309-7308. E-mail us at show@insignficast.com, and subscribe on iTunes.

It's only been a few days, but here is another show for you guys. We start with our promised three beer salute to Meekeekee. Then we get right back to the Absinthe shots. Tim from the For Whatever Reason show gave us a call wanting to know about racism in LA, our new governor, and boudin. The absinthe starts to take it's toll about halfway through this one. Doc is pissed about the number of Marine deserters these days, he also thinks the next big threat to our country is cabbage. We would like to hear from some more of you guys, so if we offended you with this show or even if we didn't you can tell us about it at (206) 309-7308. You can e-mail us at show@insignificast.com. Subscribe to the show on iTunes, or help us out with a vote on podcast alley.

First off, sorry to anyone who downloaded show 28 and got no For Whatever Reason intro or music. The wrong file was uploaded, but was quickly replaced with the right file. This show went a little long mostly because we were too drunk to pay attention to the clock, but my sloppy editing due to multitasking didn't help either. We continue with Doc's birthday celebration with Cookie joining us. Doc gives us some entertainment news. We have some Sam Beer and some shots of something Sam bought for Doc's birthday. Doc shares a little slurred Texas history. Near the end of the show Keith has a very inebriated edition of Louisiana coruption news. Thanks to Tim and Nanette at For Whatever Reason for the clips we used on the last couple of shows. Also thanks to everyone for listening. If you want to join in the show you can call us at (206) 309-7308 or e-mail us at show@insignificast.com. Subscribe to our show on iTunes. Listen on podcast alley, podcast pickle. digg.com. and podcast planet. Check out Sam's 1964 Gibson Barney Kessel Custom guitar at insignificast.libsyn.com.

Sorry about the sound on this show. The levels were set a bit too high and so was Doc. It was payday for Doc and he started celebrating early. Keith tells the story about the adventure of painting his chimney. We play a couple of clips from the For Whatever Reason show, and spend a little time talking about Sam and Keith's cooking. We also find out what makes a chicken wiggle. Doc wants to know, is that a girl gone wild or is that my daughter? Does anyone listening like beer enough to get it into their body like this guy? You have to stick around to hear Doc painfully stumbling his way to the end of the show. Call us at (206) 309-7308. E-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

Listen now or subscribe to the podcast feed! This week, Bex gets pictures and a form letter birth certificate, behind bars in a prison outfit, "Yay" and "Yankees" don't go together, New England free association, road rage at the Natick Collection, Maureen's Mexican birthday meal, Guitar Hero Encore: Rocks the 80s, paper facebooks, CameraGate, and Britney's business dealings with Boba Fett. Music: "Midway" by The Famous, courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network Intro Music: "Pocketbook" by Derek K Miller Outro Music: "Remember Hope" by Farewell Redemption Podcasts Mentioned: Crescent Tech Talk For Families For Whatever Reason Barely Podcasting Love Long and Prosper Geek Acres Shelly's Podcast Tucker Tales Technorati Tags: Podcasts Boston Massachusetts New England Feedback: Feel free to e-mail us at WickedGoodPodcast|at|gmail.com or call us at 206-600-MASS(6277)!

This was really a fun show to do. We started out by thanking Tim and Nanette from the For Whatever Reason show for their support, then we give them a call on their comment line. Check out their show it's great. After we do a couple of news stories and talk a little we decide to pause to grab a beer and that is when all hell breaks loose. Sam and Keith's cousin Marcus show up at the door, followed by Sam's girlfriend Cookie and her friend, 22 year old Kelly, who happens to be hot. They all join in the show and we have a great time. We find out about Kelly, and Doc tells us about scaring the crap out of people on his rides when he was a carny. Cookie tells her own story about almost dying on a carnival ride, but she didn't care because she was high. There are a few Cajun phrases that I'm sure you will be able to figure out, and Marcus is just being Marcus. It's a crazy fun show. E-mail us at show@insignificast.com.

An interesting show. We do a couple of news stories, and you must be patient with Sam as he tries to be Mr. Wizard to figure out just how strong the moonshine he may or may not have made is. After we open some Sam-Beer Doc reviews condom commercials. Have you ever wondered what the hell the person in front of you in the check out line is going to do with that stuff? Doc has. Find out how Insignificast evolved from it's humble (pathetic) start to the internet sensation it has become. Finally, we find out about how Doc became a carny, and quite a bit of strange insight into the carny life. We really stuffed alot into this one. Let us know what you think about it at show@insignificast.com, also check out the For Whatever Reason podcast. A nice couple and new friend of our show.

Listen now or subscribe to the podcast feed! This week, describing potatoes as a person, Steve orders fancy water to not seem cheap, attack of the killer insects, we stumble into an episode of CSI at Wal-Mart, fireworks in the complex, dueling Massholes, the Wizard of Oz and the gold standard, our trip to a Matthew Ebel house party (with weasels!), Mario Strikers Charged, and FunSpot. Links: Couplecasts.com Our Blog at Loopipes.com Music: "Trees - Live in Second Life" by Matthew Ebel, courtesy of the Podsafe Music Network Intro Music: "Pocketbook" by Derek K Miller Outro Music: "Remember Hope" by Farewell Redemption Podcasts Mentioned: For Whatever Reason Better Late Than Never Love Long and Prosper Tucker Tales Marblecast Technorati Tags: Podcasts Boston Massachusetts New England Feedback: Feel free to e-mail us at WickedGoodPodcast|at|gmail.com or call us at 206-600-MASS(6277)!