I feel the dirt,
and it's not as easy as washing it off to get rid of it.
It's been piling for years
up, in, and around me.
It's in my nails,
and I feel it pumping in my blood.
But worst of all,
I hear it in love.
It makes my attention weary.
And as I'm in the midst of it's dirtiness,
all I can think of is how I can put more strength into asking God how do get rid of it..
'cause I can't stop it.
But I won't stop trying,
it's not worth another option.
I'm no super hero,
so who believes dirt doesn't shine ?
Because i can see,
That It's glaring in your eyes.
Memories don't live like people do.
So just like that,
the ocean lives in my living room.
I sure hope I can fall into it while I throw myself around.
.. At least to cool off.
And why deal with the problems,
when you could just deal with the symptoms right ?
Throw it to the back of my conscious for the time being ?
I hate having to do that.
I hate living with dirt.
It's like a secret, mostly.
We talk about it cautious.
I think of it, grossly.
Even though it hangs, closely.
When it is in mood,
you'll hear it.
Somewhat ghostly.
This has got me shaking my head a lot.
Crap out of luck.
Like some average Joe smuck.
Like I can buy it.
But I'm crap out of a buck.
Life is a storm,
It won't miss me if I duck.
It tempts my strength to soften over time;
i just won't have that on my watch.
Dirt belongs only in certain places,
on the footprints of your guilty traces & in the past of professional escapists.
Usually on the end of a pick.
Life is a garden I hope you can dig.

Joe Dirt said we just gotta keep on,
keepin' on.