Issues

We all have issues, all need tissues,
paint ourselves in darkened hues.

The problem is, they won't separate,
because they're a hive they can't relate.

So how it feels is, mummy's looking!
She can see what you are cooking.

But how does that effect the world?
Some parts of it must come unfurled.

At first it was just one mad mum,
immaculate is really dumb.

Then on we trot, and so we see,
life spreads fast, indefinitely.

So seek out your young antichrist,
or find perfection and then think twice.

None is really for your son,
because you know you're the only one.

That's why we needed freemasons,
otherwise we'd still be at the station.

A creeper won't differentiate,
unless you line her old estate.

So here's the proof, they're scared of the dark,
they keep extinguishing the ancient spark.

And so they drag you back again,
to roll around without your friends.

Focus on just what you have,
spread your kids and you'll go mad.

But keep your mind on who you are,
and you'll never become their car.

But on the plus side, the hive has gains,
women fly faster when freed from chains.

So there's a lesson,
when you lose your place,
stop staring at your childrens face.

They know exactly what they should do,
the interference is due to you.

They can find you, but it takes time,
and until then they'll be just fine.

I know you won't believe in space or time,
but trust me, God has his neck on the line.

It's black and white, on opposite sides,
making sure we stem all the tides.

Cooperation, peeps, that's it.
Work with them and we'll get fit.

They own your body, you own your mind,
Sterilise their heads and they'll respond in kind.