Mocking eyes
make for many shifty lies
Wishing the worlds (?)
made up of earths deep blue skies.
Walking forth, strutting nothing.
yet still keeping my chin down.
Fear clouds, sirens wound up,
if drunk roosters hoot,
who then woke me up.
Fire cleanses, beer from dispensers,
dirt caked, lady's waiting
it never stops,
don't dare look to a clock.
It is with hands.
Keep on pretending this is the only way
to keep medium rare deer at bay
It is a problem, believe me not
Go ahead call them. But be sure to own up.
To the flame, we all at some point believe it's vane.
To even try to enjoy life.
That's the price.
Nice guys don't finish last.
If it is a only a fib.
We who have you fooled.. Look hard we are easy to spot,
the ones with the hat
It's our top.
No comments:
Post a Comment