The Oprah Winfrey Show

We'll make our way out

I'm confident

We'll make our way out

We'll make our way out

I know I know

We'll make our way out

We'll make our way out

F*ck you is not the code word

I'm the idiot who mistook topaz for sulfur

My nose hurts my soul hurts

In the combination den dungeon dojo

With seven dumb bozos and several servings of porridge

New sign on my garage reads "Dead Nigger Storage"

Did you see that?

I imagine myself saying on the Oprah Winfrey Show

That life is hopeless and finicky

It's morbid and limiting to be constantly absorbing their energy

Translating context

This is a pamphlet explaining the uselessness of the rap song's conquest

Your measurements seem prophetic

I interjected

They mistook my rhetoric for poetics

I never knew that I cried in my sleep

I only knew that I was crying in my dreams

I never knew that I was crying in my sleep

I only knew that I cried in my dreams

We'll make our way out

We'll make our way out

We'll make our way out

I'm confident