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Correct Big Rhys Lyrics
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Rhys Langston
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Correct Big Rhys
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I’ve saved these memories on blocks: To come of age in the Arathi Highlands With my Guilty Sparks Ethernet-linked systems To controller hands He taught me inverted Yeah, my Plum dog Was the main cohort In that digital-to-analog K-8 bookended by Volumes of all the eb Games trade-ins And when we snaked through Sotheby’s Just toe the line And I hugged your mom The last time Those days of Nightfire and Azeroth— So go, video my soul ‘cause this was so real, so real And no rush to record ‘cause I’m just trying to feel And I can’t deal Match made for an oddball Holding on until the time expires To load up an old file Is an old flame That sparks harmonics on A heartstring You’ll see it’s worthwhile Suggestion of a trial To find perchance a reduction Of basic elements through A concourse of past times Rendered worlds Drawing through-lines And stuttered sights I stand, firmly anti-aliased to rewind These games have brought Clear resolutions and bleary tears Graphical engines upgrading As I doubled in years And it’s strange They’ve given me so much language Strange how all these moving parts Saved for my own arrangement Still I feel myself anchored Crazy as it sounds I feel myself anchored 12 years-old, docked in Seyda Neen My vocal chords now to express This straining: The first time I saved face on a cartridge 5 years-old there was moaning in a burning library Strafing on a Blockbuster-rented Leon Kennedy on crt With barely read esrb Big Rhys On Lyric Avenue between alimony and Tracy Generations of consoles to console Private confirmation hearings Marty O’Donnell soundscapes and West Gash symphonies Go, video my soul ‘cause this was so real, so real No rush to record ‘cause I’m just trying to feel And I can’t deal Now now, the Full Frontal Incumbent Thought nothing of it Akin to something of an electoral puppet Same script on the notarized budget: An author’s note to a book of rhymes Made public To obfuscate that collection of overly-abstracted raps He takes a momentary lapse Dips the pen inside an inkwell Dwelling on the right reference to Sentimentalize a whole past well Untaxed turns back with mindful inhalations Citing source awards With conflagrations Now rejoicing with congratulations for what Moments of childhood are recorded And then stored See well, an imaginary shoulder would hark here here To tip a solemn head a little there there Circumnavigating fetal innocence Transpositions octaves of a younger life To somewhere more free and bare (like what?) Go, video my soul ‘cause this was so real, so real No rush to record ‘cause I’m just trying to feel And I can’t deal I’m documentarian, baby Full definition ______________________ Flood session Pizza, picture, essen Retracing sketches About another epoch: After school flexing Index’s the weapon Information passed to Guild raiders and brethren Caravan to Karazhan Tank buffed by power-words Interior defended (unseen, unheard) Stadium Arcadium bumped through Wet Sand Gateways Unfurled through curls, braces Farmer’s tans, race bait Jumps out of the gym Into punk bedrock Niche in Silent cartography, maps drawn Written plots Pixel polyglot, ravenous mind, stomach Stopped decibels for gendered interaction Noiseless pundit Fuck kid—
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