My brain feels spun, The other kids are having fun. I'm not sure what direction I'm on. Should I be playing, slaying, laying down I don't let the ground hold me up. I sip apple juice from a Lego cup Then let my thoughts erupt. Blow off my mind, it's dusty But I'll be a quick spitter like Rusty The pinch hitter who lost the game Still dancing all the same. Oh and you just lost the game.
I'm sorry, I'm not sorry. The engines are not starting, The cylinders should be firing Though now expiring, into nothing. It's not snow, it's just a dusting. I have a two, a five, a seven, jack and queen, In other words, I am absolutely bluffing. The suit does not match the shoes that I wore to score a date too late. Miss Cinderella it's half past eight And those glass shoes are positively fake.
Today I wrote nothing, Mistrusted my hand to stand on it's own But Mr. Right, I was wrong. You need to leave the page alone. Today, I drank a drink that made me think I'd never stop the twitching hop My mind had surely bled And left this mess before I went to bed.