Silence are the words ever deepening,
though your hair locks are happening,
and your eyes and the tightest of flesh
detention's out in time for recess
and your thirty five year old body
its scary how you remind me
of the old days of summer school days
Lets not ever but least experience them.

Snap a wishbone to have some fun,
you are the answer to a loaded gun,
I think only in time you''ll ever understand
a fool's relishes comes with such delights,
his guidance his only third eye sight

Come on and lets snare a wolf
**** his make-believe contours
Its a shame when in his hood
he's still preying through the woods,
pretending to be the *****,
that all that we fore-saw.
And this enlightenment,
burn all the bugs and figuratively,
lost to a late Matinee so drunkenly.