| | I muse in these oppressive days in a daze
for I yearn to learn the atrocious ways you laze
and tend to trend. Too cool of a fool to be trite,
you play the same game every night.
Ya spit the same shit, pop the same pills,
killin more brain cells as you explore the same hells.
I'd venture to say, that you've strayed from your way.
Free your mind, punk. You ain't trippin, you're drunk.
Or just do it again, again, and again. Keep on sippin that syrup
til it's your last friend.
I dare you to say that I'm wrong, that there's no truth in this song,
cause you know that ya trapped in a flow that'll throw
your soul out into the cold, mold your brain into a strained and stretched
far fetched sequel; a meek and weak version of what you once were.
I wish I could do more, but this is your score to settle my friend.
Test your mettle, mind your body and free your mind.
The curtain will rise and for certain you'll find that true beauty awaits you behind.
Otherwise, you'll just die blind in a gutter somewhere, and no one will care.
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| | Posted 3/14/2007 7:53 AM - 13 Views - 2 eProps - 1 Comment
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