I wasn’t built to fit in your circle anyway and for years you didn’t encouraged me but laughed when I was “out of shape.”
I didn’t even want the last laugh, I ended all my moves pretty shallow. I thought the grass was mowed so tell me, how low does it really go?
See from this love village a boy grew a rose from his own soul and soil with no water or seed from his fellow peers. To only realize, he was prince all along and when he tried to show others the way They ignored him.
As times goes on, the circle gets smaller. We will never forget The Marathon Continues. However, everybody can’t go. Everybody isn’t built nor ready for this race or this fast pace.
Still painting my pictures perfect, they never needed us. We couldn’t get inside the doors but now they’re greeting us.
Ash to ashes. Burning dust til dusk. Only love we see through the lust.