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Age Is a wall Tagged with anvils Wishing to fall But hanging in gravity Fighting naked She scratched anyone Who got in her view But the old guy named blue Took her by the arm Flying her to her rightful home Trying harder these days Never felt So difficult At times I wonder Out loud or in silence If I should have joined A ******* cult Maybe then And only then I'd make sense Within the confines Of designed order Competition Can be wicked If the competitors Sincerely care and desire For the red ribbon At the end of the concrete road Forgetting daily That you are in love Is a bad thing to say At the end of a night Or at the start of the day Prohibition never lasted For America And all of its glory Is a Promised Land As long as you pay with dollars And are filled with A mind full of sand Tomorrow If I awaken to a morn' Old Knox's Gold will shine Worn tough by the filthy rich And in two days A reader won't finish these lines As my life diminishes while kicking With steel tipped taps To be young To be old Never made a matter For the fun we had when we were children Now seems like ancient memories Whether staring into the soul of the sun Or being held captive by Ghengis Kahn's son If your lover happens to be holding the gun Your done
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
Age
Age Is a wall Tagged with anvils Wishing to fall But hanging in gravity Fighting naked She scratched anyone Who got in her view But the old guy named blue Took her by the arm Flying her to her rightful home Trying harder these days Never felt So difficult At times I wonder Out loud or in silence If I should have joined A ******* cult Maybe then And only then I'd make sense Within the confines Of designed order Competition Can be wicked If the competitors Sincerely care and desire For the red ribbon At the end of the concrete road Forgetting daily That you are in love Is a bad thing to say At the end of a night Or at the start of the day Prohibition never lasted For America And all of its glory Is a Promised Land As long as you pay with dollars And are filled with A mind full of sand Tomorrow If I awaken to a morn' Old Knox's Gold will shine Worn tough by the filthy rich And in two days A reader won't finish these lines As my life diminishes while kicking With steel tipped taps To be young To be old Never made a matter For the fun we had when we were children Now seems like ancient memories Whether staring into the soul of the sun Or being held captive by Ghengis Kahn's son If your lover happens to be holding the gun Your done
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Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 6:59 PM UTC
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