I'm not the me who can be with the she I believe
I'm not the she that can belong to the he either it seems
If I be the me that I desire to see me complete
then the crease in my sheets will never come out or be clean
and the mirror that reflects the her will  never have sheen
so the me that I need will never be seen
not by the them or the they or the eyes that they keep
and the she that I seek will be covered from these
and the hurt it would cause will become her disease
so I'll keep the me I maybe could be
in the silence and chambers of my secretes and dreams

My hours are gone with the wind
They're soaked in the folds of your skin
The minutes spent touching
Amounted to nothing
And I'll never see them again

Maybe I'll give a crap more
Maybe I'll take crap less
Maybe invite my enemies over and burn them like they're in-scents
They'd be looking at  beverages thinking 'I probably shouldn't drink this'
No ****, its melted flint if you asking out of interest

But since the law and moral cause don't really favor ******  
I'll post a an ad in the paper asking if anyone wants to get sawed up
Find a willing part-taker and grind them into saw dust

But on a note of real talk I really don't have murderous intent
My thoughts might seem cruel and rigid, but they're savage at best  
Honestly all I want to the get some Gang Nam respect
Maybe then I can turn my enemies into friends
If that's t0o much to ask
Honestly I couldn't as for less