There's an abstraction to the story of the road Moments of clarity stitched together behind blurry eyes yarning the tale Legion threads of asphalt singeing singing a web of need and desire Backlit reflections of headlights in chrome Eyes behind eyes guiding the way nowhere and everywhere
"Mr Boon" It's really been a while I came across that adorable senile man " Mr Boon", maybe he's just too vexed with me, maybe he's not please with our last meeting, cause I was too rash on the dusty. Oh dear good senile man "Boon" don't be too ******* me not to pave on my pavement again. I know, I might have just been quite infantile the last time, and we never learn. But does not everyone deserve a twoth?
I'm sitting at a stop sign with my tongue tied & my brain fried, oozy sunny-side-up on the pavement they tell me "look at the bright side" as if the sun could talk, but no, I'm shooting blanks on a half-tank of chemical reuptake; here's a mouthful of soap, keep your insides clean
stuff a drawer with hope for the rainy days; 'cause we worship the heat like we're trying to get cancer, I'll spill from my lips what I don't want to eat, and worship every dancer for a flaw that knows them better; insert needles into inked-up skin, then burn out every letter,
we'll burn that bridge when we get there, make it a public monument picking pennies out of muddy boot-prints, but **** it, if the shoe fits keep your luck in a jar so it can't run out like your bank account, resuscitate me in a desert so I can get used to the drought;
& we've all got a cutscene we'd rather not talk about so here's the uncensored take, after I spoon-feed you the low-stakes version (try not to choke) this is every mistake on a half-tank of reuptake try to fill up your plate while your bank goes for broke;
take it up a notch and watch me free-fall down the ropes while you climb the ladder with 5 dead bodies and a *** tape, call it a playdate with fate & see how long the relapse takes after your firewall fills with smoke.
Dance, my son Dance in the grass The pavement is constricting It leaves you numb to true feeling So dance in the grass Dance in the grass Be snazzy Be jazzy Create your own craze The grass sings to your bare feet True joy for days The pavement is for those Who follow the path But those who invent their path Dance in the grass The pavement walkers will stare But when you’re dancing you don’t care A tango A waltz A rhythm your own The grass understands The pavement can’t atone Barefoot and fancy free Dancing in the grass What a sight to see
Follow your own path and go your own way. And while you're at it, feel free to dance a little.
your beauty lasted many years newly set, your color shined nothing made you hurt you sure were tough but over time that changed we watched as you started to crack we glued you when you needed it but something was very wrong you were falling apart and pieces of you went missing after awhile we forgot about you and stopped watching out for cracks present day and you're all scarred up as i walked down to get the mail today i noticed how bad you had gotten cracks went all the way up and down your spine your sides were shattered you looked like you took yourself apart and tried to glue yourself together again i studied your scars and pieces and wondered how we had forgotten that you were hurting and breaking i understood that you had went through a lot as people came and went you slowly lost your muster but you weren't any less beautiful than before you carried your scars like a champ your dim color meant you had experience i looked at you in a different light your pieces were mosaics and your color reminded me of thunderstorms stormy, yet beautiful after it was over this cracked pavement was overlooked i now go get the mail more often