Dylan & B-Key - Slave to Life

What a skeletal wreck of a man this is
Translucent flesh and feeble bones
The kind of temple where the whores and villians try to tempt the holistic tones
Running rampant with free thought to free form the free and clear
And the matters at hand are shelled out like lint at a laundromat to sift and focus on the bigger, better, NOW
We all have a little sin that needs venting, virtues for the rending and laws and systems and stems ripped from the
branches of office do you know what your post entails?
Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve?
Wind down inside your adivistic allure, the value of a summer spent and a winter earned
For the rest of us there is always sunday
The day of the week that reeks of rest but all we do is catch our breath so we can wade naked into the bloody pool and
place our hand on the big black book
To watch the knives zigzag between our aching fingers
A vacation is a countdown
T minus your life and counting
Time to drag your tongue across the sugar cube and hope you get a taste
WHAT THE F**K IS ALL THIS FOR? (*background*WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?) SHUT UP!
I could go on and on but let's move on shall we?
Remember, your a wreck an accident
Forget the freak your just nature
because in the end everything we do, is just everything we've done.