ah shucks that's good corn...

The high and mighty, fight the mighty high  
One knows not to start, one knows not to quit  
One can only stand, one can only sit  
One just got jacked, one just made the fix...  
   
A baker's dozen eats the gospel bird  
Their train of thought pulls into the station  
As they create a face or face the creation  
An alchemical wedding, a soulful translation...  
   
They say "nearer the source, purer the stream" of unconscious thought in a dream  
....or it would seem  
Your not in account for the genes you were deemed  
But rather their use in the world we all see....  
   
Mental pimps with slinging jive, can bend your focal point...  
Keep your center gazed and concentrate  
For the bringers of night, ring the war bell  
Speaking tongues of spite on the exhale...  
   
You must ride the light, that initiates the rite  
With a spectrum of sight, you will wave the flight  
Shine your mirror reflection to the source connection  
And again slide the prism through the crack in the mind...