It hit muddied from the get go
Life got messy so early
It got ***** and down low
Just hit messier, you know?

It got tangled in briars and thorns
it hit shitastic in a fierce light storm
Life gets messier every forsaken day
This **** is too messed up to stay

It tumbles like weeds on empty streets
and begs like one dollar hookers
or urchins addicted to simple treats
because that's all they get to eat

no one will ignore the lookers

Life got messy at the crack of Dawn
she swallows nails, upon a yawn
she pretends so succinctly, to be the norm

When did this Life become forlorn?

Life got messy when I picked up the knife and turned it back and forth
beneath flickering fluorescent lights and pretended I knew what it's for

Now I'm not so sure

Should I mess up my skin?
Should I mess up my Ex?
Should I carve my initials
into the the tree I thought
we would again meet at next?

Life just got messier
when I realised my age
my circumstance, my stance

It gets even messier when
you dig to the back of your closet
and find your skinny jeans
you'll never ever fit again
without a Godsend chance

Life *****, Life is Love
Life means nothing but,
is everything
Life blows, Life is messy
I'd give everything
to do it again

Lonely I sit here
Dried up tears
The pain I feel
Only my kids can hear

They ask me why
I don't know what to say
Why did Daddy leave?
Why couldn't he stay?

There's nothing in my heart
But pain and misery
Being left, not once but twice
Now I barely breathe

I ask myself
What did I do?
How could I change?
To be good enough
For either of you...

I'm high on sadness
And lonely in love
I just realize now
I'm not good enough...

Why do artists **** their arts?
Journalists obey corporate bosses.
Doctors peddle drugs for status.
Lawyers work for robber barons.
Bankers' havens for barons' taxes.
Kings start wars for hefty profits.

Charity's done for the sake of publicity.
Vanity today is a thriving industry.
Shopping's done with borrowed money.
Bankruptcy levels; not seen in history.
From hazardous things; profits aplenty.
Poisoned wells we leave our progeny.

These lunacies have a common cause,
To win 'the rat race'; at any **** rate,
Even earthly mother, we brutally ****!
How much is enough, to be content?
Pharaoh's wealth was greater than most,
But while he drowned, it saved him not.

Instead, strive for a righteous life,
Bonded to mother, free from desire.
For we're not islands, or rats in a race.
And when we stand on Judgement Day,
Our wealth that day will have no say,
Our deeds that day will lead the way.