I just don’t think I’m feeling this one;
Actually jealous of his little finger, still in the sun.
Shut up and work, stop moving around;
I’m gonna’ string you up if you make one more sound.

Definitely not feelin’ it, haven’t for a while;
Just an empty shopping cart at the end of their aisle.
Do as you’re told, think like WE do;
I’m telling you son, listen up or you’re through.

Can’t spread my wings around this place;
Can’t stop seeing myself as some ******* disgrace.
Ha ha, you’re just not used to the dark;
Let your eyes adjust a lil’, they’ll catch a spark.

Yeah yeah, heard it all before, there’s no such thing as a cheap trick;
Go ahead, grab a plate, I’m serving up fresh **** on a stick.
When life hands you lemons, you know what to do;
But when lemons hand you life, gonna’ try something new?

Oh well, I’ll just sit here dreaming about those rays;
I might actually do something about it, one of these days.
Funny how the stars press firmly against the night;
Sprinkled in a sea of black, the bright lonely light.

And why to be, for those who won’t see
a troubling mist, a blissful twist
the end was coming, the end was near
oh where the final mark did stop, ‘twasn’t clear

Spoke from the heart, heard from the soul
acted as if, ‘twere nothing t’all
he flew like an eagle, but thought like a tree
all well and good, his graces would be

How to finish, oh where to begin
ponders the reaper, whetting his grin
“don’t mind me, I won’t be long.
What’s given, got... ‘twas mine all along”

Teach me how to write a poem.
Heart to pen, pen to paper,
Why should I read Whitman, Joyce, and all the rest?
Why is it they who are the best?

Teach ME how to write a poem!
Pen to paper, paper to trash;
I don’t need to hear their crap;
hear the sob story of some sap.

Teach me how to write a poem.
Paper to trash, trash to regret;
why can’t I feel out loud?
I wanna be known; I wanna be proud...

Teach me how to write a poem.
Regret to change, change ‘till it’s over.
Maybe one day people will know who I am;
maybe one day they’ll feel it, person to person, man to man.

Teach me how to write a poem.
Maybe they've climbed up from hell;
maybe they earn what they lack.
Maybe others just wanna' pay it back.

The birds and the bees,
the wind and the trees
follow a path that no man has set,
follow a leader; taking a debt.
Ready to die, ready to fly,
what’s the difference, but to try...