WASTELAND

WASTELAND (Somewhere between a disgrace and a pristine place, everything but design and survive evaporates)... Staying one step ahead of my shadow in the waste lands, burn marks the spot where I embark on another venture into the never-forever lands. Everything written but still combing the World with my hands. Sifting for virtues amongst the dirt and the dirt cheap truths. Finding that every grain lies... Lies through the bare face of it's eyes. Time wastes anything but time. Only falling one tier at a time. But every sand mass can be upturned in the hourglass, like every year can be manipulated into a better past. Three sides to the stories you will tell and all"s well as long as the clock gets turned back before the last... grain sails from the glass, like a World with a ship-mast, sailing out to the vast aftermath of a massive blast... I call it The Big Bang and the key to unlock it is in my right hand. Some things, it takes a mind to understand... Takes a minute to reveal the master-plan. It really is a dream land and I'm waking from it to the nightmare of reality, constantly, living the dream in the waste lands. Eye surveys the open grounds. It's a graceland and I only see it move in sounds. It's only a movie so I slowly let it play like a time loop round. Eternity is a symbol in me and I re-evaluate as I resonate on a figure 8. Straight great like the real fate. No fame but what we make and no aftershock with the same level of impact as the first quake. Only one ＲΛＶΞＮ and never repeat the feats I demonstrate. Step up to the plate on a plateau of hate and a platforms of over played and over paid verifications to enamcipate. The forward gear is a treadplate and I chalk up a circle on my head plate. It's like a mental slate blackboard where I chalk up the tallied score from the walls and vindicate my thoughts where they once eradicated them for a blood sport. In short, I'm wound tight and sort of tort... Can't ever be bought... Always willing to teach or be taught but it's over-ridden by fear or be faught, hunt or be caught... Seek or be sought. Thinking my way across the waste lands. Inking the inclines and zones of the neutral plain. Nothing is safe again. I still think of my pain. I threw my pain away to the fray. Over the mountain and far away. Maybe we'll cross paths someday... Words and Vocals by t_h_e_r_a_v_e_n (ＲΛＶΞＮ) This Beat: 'ＲΛＶΞＮ LANDS' Dark Trap-Hop, Beat by t_h_e_r_a_v_e_n (ＲΛＶΞＮ) Beat Made with Soundtrap BandLab: t_h_e_r_a_v_e_n Rap Fame: r_a_v_e_n Soundtrap: ＲΛＶΞＮ #r_a_v_e_n #rapfame #raven_chronicles #rapfame_ar_team #rapfame_official #ＲΛＶΞＮ_wasteland ＲΛＶΞＮ