A misread

There was love that was gone

Love to an American is way too cinematic
You know this

There was way of flesh but that also disappeared

Living on too many little islands yes there were islands in hell too she said

Then she was gone

Who hauled these islands on their love frenzy mellow

But what!  No her mellow gone too
No need to cinematize these mornings just build on homes

without any hopeless song there

Hey who the hell dropped my cinematic for such little cash?

Now he, his orchestra and every wannabe knows of the real kings in your hell

You Americans are way too gone with your islands of consumption – way too gone

You love your coffee American frenzy to the mile-end of children of your convenience 

What home with no mile-end in sight we have your melody for you

American frenzy extraordinaire and we are expecting it to please you

We know your convenience you dirty little children of hopeless Samson

Too many summers

Too many built on cloud islands

Bring home your melody king of coffee

Long gone coffee Samson of eternal summer

Who will recognize this frenetic waste of time we built for your convenience

Cultivated for your devastated coffee islands

Right up till we disappeared in the mixtape