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You ain’t heard of a suicide quite like mine
‘Cause I never feel as alive as when I’m on either side of an intellectual tête-à-tête
Of a moral/ethical argument
Where both heads can give as good as they get and come driven by a mutual intent:
What the Greeks would call a glorious death, but strictly in the figurative
To lose is to learn
Because tension’s what creation is—a confluence of different voices
So let’s get a jam session in, whatever your instrument is
Let’s harmonize in our dissonance and we’ll come to find it all complements
Things like “wrong” and “right” are irrelevant when we’ve crucified our narcissist
We’ll bring our song up to that perfect pitch and know we’ve played some funky shit
To blend is to birth