I knew I was in "purgatory"
I couldn't make up all the grade/s
Didn't really matter much
My pocketknife had a broken blade
The "I's" are ever on you
No one hears or cares to understand
The questions put before them
Are lost to time by sand
So fling the words before me
My pearls before the swine
The path placed as pure adjectively
While you sit and mull your time
There was my life before me
In the parking lot of life
A beat up old "63" Rambler
With the "Club" attached to the steering wheel of strife
Nov 1, 2018
Nov 1, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
I knew I was in "purgatory"
I couldn't make up all the grade/s
Didn't really matter much
My pocketknife had a broken blade
The "I's" are ever on you
No one hears or cares to understand
The questions put before them
Are lost to time by sand
So fling the words before me
My pearls before the swine
The path placed as pure adjectively
While you sit and mull your time
There was my life before me
In the parking lot of life
A beat up old "63" Rambler
With the "Club" attached to the steering wheel of strife
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