If I make it to heaven, will I wonder if hell’s better,
I’m a bellwether, but I just scribble on a pail letter,
I try and stop, as if I was trying to save strengths,
Fuck following your heart, follow the wave lengths,
Follow your heart, and watch your heart diminish,
No turtle races, you’ll just lose from start to finish,
I write in shattered entendres, and broken titles,
I always write in Psalms, like all I see is open Bibles,
Sometimes I’m caught in lyrics, I’m lost in a forest,
Your sorry eyes are always crossed in the chorus,
Plus I hardly laugh, my smile locks and stays frowns,
All I have are blues, like a bullshit box of crayons,
Just like a man that wanders through the vineyard,
An alcoholic, as he travels, onward grew the sinner,
I’m the alcoholic, whiskey lost because my pocket rips,
Can’t shoot for the moon, when there’s no rocket ships,
They say the good die young, probably way too fast,
If you pray for anything, you should just pray you last,
I fall prey, just to watch a bottomless sink hole closed,
Skrinked wool clothes, furrowed brow, wrink-led nose,
With nothing but a name tag that says Twink-le Toes,
With a notepad that looks more than inked full rows,
Every time I get ahead, I feel like I’m just splinters fight,
The snowball effect will never end on a winter’s night,
I know, you can’t be an omelet, without taking a few eggs,
Can’t get a standing ovation, without breaking a few legs,
I know you can’t be at the top tier, at the bottom crying,
Can’t have friends stand up for you, when you caught ‘em lying,
And the top tier, is telling me you had better not stop here,
And the truth will be lost inside of all those other lies,
Otherwise, every bully you meet will be big brother size,
And every girl will try and use comforting your mother tries,
I feel closed and trampled, like door knob steps,
I wish I could see girls more than whore objects,
I see my wife, inside the eyes of the last stripper,
She’s barefoot, I don’t worry about a glass slipper,
Little scribbles turn so quickly and form blotches,
When I’m missing out on girls with warm crotches,
I eaves drop on the next room, I just heard laughs,
I’m just a soaring eagle, seeing birds in bird baths,
What have I learned, if you sing with a kindred spirit,
Worship is there, I know there’s always sin in lyric,
A loss comes, and I promise I’ll never lose again,
That’s promisin’ to fight, an’ never bruise the skin,
The good that comes, that always soothes the sin,
Every one sin’s numbered, I feel unencumbered,
I live on a cloudy night, when will the stars show,
I live on a busy street, but when will the cars slow,
I've learned, you cant live without pecking orders,
You can't explore, without first checking borders,
And you can't wage war, without expecting mortars,
You can't expect masterpieces, with no more notes,
Don't ever marry a wife, that always has sore throats,
Or a girl breathless, out of shape, and nose is running,
Just show what love/rape, it grows when cumming,
You can't expect to do well, if you plan ass kick,
Especially if you're headed to hell in a hand basket.
You'll feel trapped in a nutshell in a planned casket,
You'll have more then the weight of your shoulders,
That weight will end in the same fate of the soldiers,
viewtopic.php?f=24&t=109806&p=1552056#p1552056
