My thoughts are the slots Put a coin in to play Two pennies for some sense Since the banks recompense the poor sitting on a lower shelf The rich are empty, lost themselves Attached to puppet strings Pulled up by faceless masters faster full of things Stop. Cut your strings. Sell the loans and mortgage debts Escape the ensnaring nets Look. Now you’re free.
Fear is free just look at me Im stuck inside with my soul to hide a sinful slip up ups my chance My tongue is doing the liars dance Two toes on point, or into finger guns? That’s the one that I still fear the freedom to do, drive the car, yes steer. Drive away or drive by to these feeling on the sidelines second string emotions turn with stinging motions. Burn my offing notions with a note not a hundred grand but a modicum I lay in my bed try to sleep, feeling none.
The slots spun a short win when I put my two cents in. Now the lump sum is sitting dumb My thoughts are dimmer I’m the loss when I’m the winner.