Entering the blackness,
A blind,
Blonde,
Astronaut I am.
Oh,
My hair didn't reach my brain.
Your force has a certain strain.
You are all the same.
All the same.
Humanity,
And what ever happened to originality?
My lower conscious tells me to succumb,
My pride holds up,
It beats the race,
The winning streak,
Take a peek,
And you'll see,
I'm a human,
But barely any longer.
I'm still rather somber,
You still can't see why,
And I can't try any longer,
But I still look at you
Through my prized rosey binoculars.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
Entering the blackness,
A blind,
Blonde,
Astronaut I am.
Oh,
My hair didn't reach my brain.
Your force has a certain strain.
You are all the same.
All the same.
Humanity,
And what ever happened to originality?
My lower conscious tells me to succumb,
My pride holds up,
It beats the race,
The winning streak,
Take a peek,
And you'll see,
I'm a human,
But barely any longer.
I'm still rather somber,
You still can't see why,
And I can't try any longer,
But I still look at you
Through my prized rosey binoculars.
this was about some guy in 8th grade who i found really enchanting but really wasn't all i cracked him up to be. i knew this subconsciously.
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