April
Thursday 15 March 2012 photo 1/2
|
I never had that much to say as a young kid,
Caught up in a broken social scene doing dumb shit,
Running wild as a solitary stepping stone,
Something out of a movie we hadn’t left alone,
And I could see it as it gained strength,
So then I left and put my feet upon the pavement,
It probably led to this feeling of my confinement,
No less appealing then stealing from my retirement,
And at that point I could only learn to let go,
Set goals itching for a moment to impress those,
Individual images of imprisonment,
Send ‘em in for a minute but no more visitors,
I need to call it in before it passes me,
It’s feeding off the limbs, but doing it so naturally,
I’ll fight it till I physically cannot walk,
Blast off into the night, a hostage standoff.
Annons
Visa toppen
Show footer