Holy Smoke

I think I’m ready to quit, commercials set the precedent
The Truth is ruthless with the smoothest of pestilence
I tried to finger point, with ashes to anoint
Until I found aloud that good and evil stood joint
At the hip, selling point was demographics
The younger the better, your brother a seller, semantics
Antics, zaniest, their brains are getting fried
But the companies are hungry for dissident designs
Of the youth culture, sepulchre, tomb users
Doomed futures, an industry for the heartless business man
Business plans are in demand but this family drafts its own
Cause there’s nothing more American than smoking someone’s bones
From out the closet, their projects have a cavalcade of names
They call gays SCUM, but their home on a range
With pages of scripture about painting a picture
With a field of caskets, a modern Damascus

[Chorus]
Breath in, breath out, breath in
Breath out, breath in, breath out

Into my abode humble, stumble over holes in numbers
Crumbled pillars, under which mother wouldn’t know comfort
But let me get this straight, you seem to avoid the subject
Of leaving Zig-Zags in my room, how fitting, now getting upset
With the boom smoke, floating in my attic
The window might be open but the epilogue is tragic
See, I’m not your average kid, my daddy seemed proud, slanging
Dang it, my basement was a greenhouse
Hangin’ at my work bench, playing games, lighting matches
And sir, you don’t have a job, so you’re light in the assets
I’m grinding in my aspects, I expect this from your kind since
The last cat in your line left my mother snowblinded
But coke floats when you’re dealing with a dreamer
That man took her for a ride and left her at the cleaners
No bad blood, cousin, this is the last place I have left
So when I die, I don’t wanna choke on my last breath

[Chorus]
Breath in, breath out, breath in
Breath out, breath in, breath out

New Jerusalem, I pass an alley with an only daughter
And a suitor, using her hands to dip a J in holy water
Rolled with care, torn instruction manual wrapping
For the blunt thoughts to come in this actual happening
“She’s lesser for knowing more”, he discerned, said “probably”
Drenching elevation in what preserves dead bodies
And that’s what she was doing, eyes that hoped to learn
That the smoke had a voice, the burning bush spoke to her
The door next her was church for misdirected people
The ministers were on a chase that was less than steeple
Evil pains last, the game acts so strange that
A bearded old man, sees a needle’s inside as stained glass
I look away, hear the doctor ask infected patients
For cash, dough and scratch like they were passing collection platelets
My boy chuckles, quietly claiming “it’s only dope”
It doesn’t make frankincense, it’s holy smoke