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Alexander Ross Aug 2013
An underlying theme,
Of the Shannonball
As fresh fur roams the hall
And soon will come the chill of
               the fall
, and well both be stuck inside the foreign warmth of the mall
nd even though you sleep down the hall, I wonder if you think of me as your light free lids begin to fall
            (Side note)
Your the perfect amount of TALL
But,
Why can't I seem to write anything that doesn't involve you ?
I mean ****, it was hidden from view
From an entire crew
Why'd you have to be a pen and not a pencil ? A stencil and a fossil, of a clearly ancient soul,
If you'll please excuse me,
I think ill have a hard time getting on my way
But ******* it I have trouble stomaching all the god dammits
I wish to say, but I save my tongue for another day
                                                             Where
I guess I won't be the bad guy
         Even though I never was.
                             Except I always will be
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
You don't stay up late with me anymore,
While everyone else goes snore, snore,snore
Infatuated with a furball, and I can't blame you,
And there's no way In hell anyone can ever tame you
Oh you ******* flame you
Ill strain you, like white tea
Delicate an easy to burn
And honestly I think he,not I should get the first turn,
He did call shotgun, after all
Control myself, patrol the shelf full of air tight and light free leaves, what are you pet peeves ?
I pray to not leave like a band of theives, unnoticed and unwanted
And for the last few weeks my dreams,
Your ******* freckled fAce you have played the muse, I mean there different every night
But there's still a reoccurring theme,
You follow me every time I dream
Infatuated with a furball,
There's enough black and live from them for all y'all
They have arrived,
And a mother deprived
But they've taken the best to your scent, and they are alone like me,
Such small creatures in a grand scary world,
And again they are like me, stripped from comfortability and perhaps forced into conformity
And for the last time I am like them, black, and half of myself in the dark
I guess a couple people know the darkness inside
But I try and keep myself in stride
Except I am no sprinter and I trip upon my own feet more times then not
I wish dreams of you,
We're nothing more then a dream that became  a true real life thought
**** everything I've bought
Since I've been here, especially that hellish hillsy dress that was an awful surprise
I can tell you are some type of grand witch
Despite a minor fear of your wiccanism
You have,
Unfortunately transformed into a completely complex unique,
Unknown organism,
Even Einstein could not Websterize the Shannonball
Because I, myself made It up
One day the Shannonball will explode
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
Let the sky fill up your bucket
Since you slept past noon
and said **** it
And I guess down the hall
is a good distance to avoid the catastrophicly wonderful anomaly
That scientific minds describe as a Shannonball
Recently discovered and rare
Now sitting next to me in a plastic chair, shelter from the sky that fills your bucket, and you slept past one and still said **** it
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
You, were a gem
Shining inside my head
You, were a gem
And I let you inside my head
And now, now that feeling seems dead
You, were a top
Spinning too fast to be controlled
And the halls, the halls are being patrolled,
And I, I feel like the bottom of a totem pole
You, you were a top, and you aren't ready to stop spinning,
And I, I couldn't stop grinning
But that was then, and this, this is now

You, you were a handle
You, you helped me stand when I needed help a little X2
But that was then, and this, this is now

We, we seemed like a puzzle,
Fitting together like a Rottweiler with a muzzle
And I, I was out of my mind,
And I, I wrote words that might have been too kind,
Now I, I bite my tongue
But we, we both still know the things that were done
And I, I only hope I can catch you when you stop spinning
Sing to the rythym of "box full of letters" by wilco
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
There is a sword, and there is a pen,
And the ink cuts deeper then steel
Can't we just make a deal?

The cracks in your armor are starting to show
Soon the winter winds will blow
Through your home and through my room in your home

Your knowledge of ivory is increasing, but it's still something foreign in your hands,

Chord  progressions take time,
Lost in concentration, with Half of your morning face, you look so ******* fine,

Pardon my French, but were both a couple of micks, a little Jesus juice gets you a little loose, and perhaps I was drowning you in my ink

Boyancy becomes logged and begins to sink, inside your head, where you thought something seemed dead,

But now you press those ivory keys like its your job, as you sit upon pillows and not your knees this time,
But god ******, you look so ******* fine

Practice makes perfect, and perfect makes time for practice,
I wish I could act upon,
This feeling

And you press those keys like some sort of ******* saint ,
I  remember what we were and now what we ain't, hope you kept my note, I don't think I should show you my thoughts anymore
Your morning face is my favorite face, Chloe
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
Now I've got a new neighbor,
Sweet as your favorite flavor
A fresh mind to savor
I won't be your savior
But you can come over whenever
With your hair cut something clever
Alexander Ross Aug 2013
you sit and try to learn
The words you hear you said you could have written but you just needed another minute
When will it be your turn , to become a black balloon, and float toward freedom and the moon, your temper grows and true hearts are shown and now my mind has been blown like a referees whistle, you act like you are innocent but you know the fouls that you have committed
Just paint me a picture, of the future you see for yourself, tuck it away until a later day, let it collect dust upon your shelf
You are now the dove you dreamed of
Flying away back home, they say you can **** 2 birds with one stone,only  if you agree to be alone
But I can only see the memory inside, even if its pressed betweeni a lie but your memory stays painted oN my mind
For the lion in New Jersey
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