October
21 November 2007
I was locked all day in the summer heat,
In a small brown house in suburban streets,
The skateboard and my shit guitar,
I dreamed all day that they would get me far,
My dad would ask me about
It was near when I turned sixteen, got kicked out of school,
And so it seemed, that things were closing in
And ready to blow,
My dad moved out about that year or so,
It took an hour to start a
If I had a chance for another try,
I wouldn't change a thing,
This made me all on who I am inside,
And if I could thank God,
That I am here, and that I am alive
And everyday I wake,
I tell
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