There’s the man in the moon
An ancient rune in the sky
That is sadly too soon to die
And beneath it’s absence I lie
Laying here I’ve radically tried
But I’ve twisted the history
For some victory to sing lyrically
Waxing theological
Maxing cynically
Making it wane honorably
Hating the finical
So what about the man in my skin
And what battles does he win
None, so what’s fun about the sun
What have I to shine light on
Other than a late night care ride without brights on
So I hide away and play it renegade style
Cause the sun’s a definite
But my hope’s in the moon who hasn’t come around in a while
But my clockwork isn’t really legit
Because he was there a few days ago
I’m just stereotyping the ergo in my ego