You're free to claim what life's giving you is meager
but we all know life ain't all the cause ******
Like the dying chain smoker cursing the cigar
yet it's obvious the bullet ain't to blame but the hand behind that trigger
you can cry foul, call her a ***** and gold digger
like at the touch of treasure in her Allan's wicker your pickle didn't grow bigger
like you didn't play in dirt with barefoot, loathe the jigger...
you can wait for answers or go seek out for them with vigor
You may keep on chasing shadow instead of figure
Growing up to the adults maybe we could've been less eager
if we only knew there was bitter to that sugar...
we had big dreams, I wanted to be an Author, she'd marry Bieber
she settled for a lad who loves her less than he loves liquor
she was sweet, but to his tongue the better was the bitter
and his thirst grew rocketing him to gallons from litre
and well, the apart twixt me and my dream is canyoning quicker
We was all reaching for the stars with glitter
we all wanted to be saints than sinners like Peter
but then you know life's turns at a complex angle theta
You don't always get to your dreams or maybe you do if you ain't no quitter...
So keep shooting for the stars even when left with a single bullet
chase after paper till you can fill beyond your wallet...
and when you buy the shoe remember all you once had was a slipper
so that you can even go harder, and be a lifetime seeker...
and when you land on the moon you didn't fail, be strong
you just found the destination whence you belong...