It's the caffeine, the nicotine, the milligrams of tar. It's my habitat, it needs to be cleaned, it's my car. It's the fast talk they use to abuse and feed my brain. It's the cat box, it needs to be changed, it's the pain. It's men, it's the plight for power, it's government. It's the way you're giving knowledge slow with thought control and subtle hints. It's rubbing it, it's itching it, it's applying cream. It's the foreigners sight seeing with high beams, it's in my dreams. It's the monsters that I conjure, it's the marijuana. It's embarrassment, displacement, it's where I wander. It's my genre, it's Madonna's videos. It's game shows, cheap liquor, blunts and bumper stickers with rainbows. It's angels, demons, gods, it's the white devils. It's the monitors, the sound man, it's the mic levels. It's gas fumes, fast food, tommy hill and mommy's pill. Columbia house music club, designer drugs and rhyming thugs. It's bloods, crips, gives, six. It's stick up kids, it's Christian conservative terrorists, it's porno flicks. It's the east coast, no, it's the west coast. It's public schools, it's asbestos. It's mentholated, it's techno, it's sleep, life and death. It's speed, coke and meth. It's hay fever, pain relievers, sex and smokers breath. It stretches for as far as the eye can see. It's reality. It's everything but me.