SS OO aaooooas—=

Over The Edge Page 3

WHAT DO YOU WANT

If you know me, call me by my first name
If you do not, please do not play that game

My name is none of your business
But | do not mean to put you under that kind of stress

Call me whatever you want

Please do not call me suga or brown!

| might come knockin’ begin’ askin’ what you really want!?!
If you call me love, mean it and mean it true

If you call me honey, do not tell me where your hands are,
| sincerely do not want to know

If you call me suga, leave it at that
Explanations make me analyze, do you want to be analyzed by me?!?

When you call me brown,
| am not yo’ brown suga,
| did not put you on that page
| MIGHT COME HAUNTING!!!

Words like brown make me think color-colour, nigga, hell and all that shiz-
zat

If it ain’t yours
Do not call it so

| If it ain’t your rumor do not spread it,
Cuz thunder could roll

Coulda, woulda, shoulda’s have never been my scene
—— @—>>>Ayugi—<<<

In the circus of the mind
The melodies of carousels play
By and by, through and through

Singing sweet, harmonious
Nothings.

It isn’t like that;
no, not at all. Instead,
Lifeless puppets dance
on strings of blood,
Screaming.

The Question remains,
but, near the end,
Itis difficult

to focus, as you return

to nothing.

What was it for?
The marionettes sigh;
The Puppeteer pauses,
The dance falters
Time stops-

Not really; the
Puppeteer will never
stop - because His brain
is full of straw.

Febuary 07, 2000

| LIKE THAT ONE, HEREIS
~ SOMETHING IN RESPONSE

IF | CUT MY HANDS OFF AND STILL COULD FEEL YOUR LIPS ON MY
FINGERTIPS, WOULD YOU BE CONVINCED?

IF | WAS BLIND BUT COULD STILL SEE YOUR PRETTY FACE, WOULD |
BE YOUR PRINCE? ' ;

IF |WAS POOR BUT FELT RICH IN YOUR PRESENCE WOULD IT BE A
MYTH?

IF | WAS SNOW ON A MOUNTAIN WOULD YOU CATCH MY DRIFT?

WHEN IT’S TIME FOR US TO UPLIFT IN THE MOTION OF OUR MUSIC
WILL WE LOSE IT?

IF |WAS A BEE COULD I CALL YOU MY HONEY?
JUST A THOUGHT FROM HEAR(T) TO THERE.
TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK, NEXT TIME YOUR MIND BLINKS.
KRIS.EXISTS.
TO THE ECLECTIC SENSITIVE
“Infinite P
Torn. Crossroads.
Intersection.

Makea _ right.

Make a left.
Make a Wrong.
Gothrough. |
Back up.

Stay petrified and do nothing.
Choose, quickly,

Nature hates a vacuum - and
Loves a Bastard. . .

That makes it easier.

Go straight through,

damn the rest.

Don’t look back,

Yield, Stop or

Merge - speed along,

or get hit by an slate:

Or worse. Hit some (thing) deer.