A universal force leading you to the crossroads To sell your soul and finally live within potential Or pass it by, blinking lashes blocking dust and truth
It takes three things and only those three Everything else is fluff
You gotta be ugly - you gotta be blind Can't see or fathom the linear substance The concrete holding, your bricks in the wall Either in a literal sense or on the inside Prominent features surpassing character hard to look at but don't you worry You gotta be blind so it's no concern to you.
Next you gotta depart with your core Strip away hope, a skinning between body and soul No longer will it be yours but if you're lucky, you may get to keep it through layaway
There's always a price though, hidden fees Steep, unsubtle , a fat moon face hiding behind a child's mask I wonder though, was it really ours, this soul, to begin with? To sell? Self entitlement lingers second thoughts That's the biggie though. Ultimate collateral, this soul you carry.
Finally, I'll only touch the tip. Driving, animal instincts seeking warm comfort You gotta answer to a new title, a southern anatomy most of of the species glorifies. it dominates in a protruding and brute external hang A tangent but have we considered this tender piece to be the answer to vulnerability instead of historically jarred ******* of wit and wealth?
That's all it takes, folks. At that fateful railing Get used to hot, sticky and sweet breath Always chasing, caressing the back of your neck. The void in the center where you had it The soul you had before you sold it.