john's john

hanging out here since the beginning of time
wondering who cares about all these rhymes

not the loo, but the goo
lost in the garden of ones
there are few things quite as astute
as a three year old's salute

given the platform anyone with half a mind
can tear apart the fabric of space and time
numbers may explain everything in the end
but who makes maths a bff (do we pretend?)

disassociate as much as you can
if you want to believe in a master plan

you've got to burn if you don't want to rot
everybody dies forgotten or not

imagine forever as a garbage can
and god becomes a garbage man

there was so much more once upon an ever
then somehow it fell into whatever