Passive Restraints

My father was Black, my mother was Decker Believe me my friend, it doesn't get any better Than rack and pinion reasoning, add a little seasoning Cook at ninety eight point six degrees Let me be the bull, and you be the pen Such an easy way to glorify sin If I am a horse, you're a Venus in spurs Everything I have is yours, so take it I come fully loaded with an option to buy I've got a stick shift disposition, a four wheel mind I'll give you endless mileage and unlimited speed Total satisfaction absolutely guaranteed Oh, no Turbo boost libido and passive restraints And as of yet, I haven't heard even a single complaint Got the tools of the trade, a fuel injected heart Efficiency is beautiful, efficiency is art Can you dig it?

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Feb 26, 2026

Ah, impetus Justification, the means are the end Doctrine and dogma, I will not relent This world, a garden in need of such weeding This world, a minefield in need of such sweeping Impetus This ministration without full consent Fire and brimstone, I will not relent Just as all good things must come to an end I will administer as I see fit I will not relent, I will not relent I will not relent, I am driven I will not relent, I will not relent I will not relent, I am driven Impetus Impetus Impetus Impetus Impetus Impetus I am driven

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Feb 26, 2026

We have been waiting and it has begun Humble thyself and hold thy tongue We have been waiting and it has begun Prostrate yourself, your time has come We have been waiting and it has begun Look boldly, look boldly, look boldly on We have been waiting and it has begun So humble thyself, and hold thy tongue Knelt at the crossroads, knelt at the leather bound pew Felt the pain of labor, and of sons overdue In full submission, we are reborn We are the plowshare and yet we are the sword Oh We have been waiting and it has begun Humble thyself and hold thy tongue We have been waiting and it has begun Prostrate yourself, your time has come We'll thresh the psyche and till the pride Distill the blood, proclaim the gun divine Damn the foul ego, praise the promised swarm We are the plowshare and yet we are the sword So we're lock, stock and barrel, baby; hook, line, and sinker Your freedom was your master, your liberties the flint for A double barrel sunrise, a double standard land You gave birth to the baby, but put a gun into its hands So the fruits of your labors have fermented into wine And the sweat that you dripped is now the honey of the hive The city is a burning sun, we are blooming flowers The fire, the flame, the passion, the power So we're lock, stock and barrel, baby; hook, line, and sinker Your freedom was your master, your liberties the flint for A double barrel sunrise, a double standard land You gave birth to the baby, but put a gun into its hands I'll say it again Too little (too little), too late (late) Too little (too little), too late (late) Too little (too little), too late (late) High caliber consecrator Too little (too little), too late (late) Too little (too little), too late (late) Too little (too little), too late (late) High caliber consecrator

Submitted by Lake of Tears — Feb 26, 2026