"shootin" poems
In time you’ll recover and absolve
push those scorned impressions aside
hammer down the jaded edges
and sing
that delightful commoners song
the one you sang so well
in what seems a lifetime ago
You really had it you know
that fiery disposition and nimble cunning
those butter chords and derelict style
we could see it -- we could all see it
it was all it took to turn the evening tide
(and rile that buck fever)
heads bashing
tongues lambasting
middle fingers high
and raising Cain on those may fly statesmen
There were no rules
when it came to your survival
no textbook rally or common bond
no structured songbird or bravado stage
you either made it, or laid it
“life by the ***** Mr. Poppy would say
a kaleidoscope of dreams
with rich colored imagery
hardened artisan seams
in a carefully woven motif
But something got lost in the needle point
something sinister and distorted took hold
the quirks and street genius
that were your lifeline
gave way to grunts
and squeals
and chilling night crawlers
the colors faded quickly
to a cold confining grey
There was no grace in the new world
no retribution or switch back
no salvation or accorded finale
only edged platforms of blackened steel
that kept you cased
in a silent vanquished cell
shivering cold with fear
night without day
all in the shadow of death
But time heals all
and the polish sneakers
and open sores are long gone
(though the roman nose and shallow cleft remain)
indeed the falconer beat the widow maker
this go around
and I’m hopeful it won’t happen again
and if it does you’ll see me
standing hand on heart
with that old verse in hand:
he ain’t tainted
or silly,
and most certainly
not forgotten…
he ain’t loony
or fixed,
or a product of his self-doing…
he’s just a straight shootin’ guy,
who had the most of it
figured out
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
The all seeing iris imperial city
The swiftest of stylus this side of the ‘sippi
The trippiest spittin’ Promethean hippy
Conspiracy theorist of eeriest verse
The despotic hypnotic black flag bearin’ Hearst
Still immersing myself in a poverty trap
As I grapple with lack of fact check cashing crap
Cryogenically frozen emotion vibes flowin’
From out my funk bunker boombox
Overthrowin’
Your global dominion opinion with ease
Shootin’ breezes with Tirailleurs Senegalese
I’m the kid wicked picket sign paintin’ Tom Sawyer
The ill eagle Taino privilege enjoyer
Still swoopin’ in mean on each **** I make clean
Pick the bones dry of serpentine oil green dreams
Then I bury what’s left of your money machines
With the pharaohs of old’s latest pyramid schemes
Jul 15, 2018
Jul 15, 2018 at 12:10 PM UTC
HEAR YE HEAR YE:
It's a wedding bell for bedding well cause' we're crushin' the illusion of Russian collusion! CNN wets on Russian bedding but Trump bets on Russian wedding, and you're invited to the bridal shower. Punking the monkery, dig the debunkery; from Rasputin to Putin it's time for some straight shootin'. Hillary looks old and glowers at Donald's rumored golden showers. Our media owes US an explanation for streams of steaming urination, but we are willing to forgive and use their wet diapers as debt wipers. My poem's appeal may take a toll, but let its little peal now roll:
****** ****** rings the bell
A Fake News warning; time to spell
out what was wet with Moscow girls.
Putin's putas ? Wisdom's pearls
were pried from Truth's reluctant shell,
banishing Hillary straight to hell.
None. It's what we want left over
from this hag. We now discover
beds were dry; it all amounted
(all those golden tricks recounted)
to less than a tepid bowl of kasha. . .
Russia laughed from her summer dacha.
InfoWars was on it first
while Dems spun lies from false to worst,
awarding cash for faked dossiers
embellished with the CIA's
well-trained performing circus-seal.
The FBI endorsed the deal
as RINOS horned in on the action:
Washingtonian distraction;
a democrat-concocted fuss—
. . . but we ALL paid Hillary to **** on us.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 4:47 PM UTC
I had Joe Willie from jump. The Jets were off the chain
Baltimore benched Johnny U cause he knew the game. And played it too.
The AFL was full of bells and whistles.Speed kills
Three yards and a cloud of dust. Get real coach. We shootin rockets to da moon. High tops . Cmon pops.
Change the guard.
Them people ain't done nothing to me said Ali.
Da Nang ain't my thang. He was the greatest. Still is.
The Haight was great. Oh yeah Kent STATE.
1968. Open the gate to the house of the rising sun.
Joplin. And Jimmy. Marvin and Tammy.
The Doors and Hair. ****** in the air
What rhymes with Agent Orange...... Nothing.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:16 AM UTC
I saw a monkey masturbatin' in a tree
He looked at me so curiously
One stroke, Two strokes, and then three
Hey jerky monkey
Don't go shootin' your load on me!
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 2:22 AM UTC
Honest,
that meaningless word left dangling before children,
a damoclean sword held fast in a gordian knot tied with scarlet thread,
finer than the spider's that once tied men's souls to an angry American God,
birthed in Transylvania,
over the woods, and through the dale, no lie
There is a tale of lies told in Nobel houses, never reachin' ground,
Down here, we situations manifested to, vain, again, stem the tide,
We flounder, fish out of water, why are we sent if
wait
he hears, he listens, haps he knows, and
how such as we came
to be here,
Welcome and see, dare ye ask me in? Might I ply you with lies
and you, believe 'em?
I could make a mindless robot out of your parts, but
that would take forever and
that's not how
Wisdom's child would tend to be, for first,
You must believe a lie and I, amusing as can be,
can't tell lies.
Discernment, fine points, per-spicacity per se, the only way.
Good luck (Luc, said luck in many tongues, is said Lose- as in Luc-ifer.
It means light, as in light, regular old granted light.)
Lightifier, good, take some, good light, for the travail, in the night.
You see, not so long ago, for me, five years before I'as born,
my momma moved to town.
What was that like, I axed my old uncle, while back,
movin' t'town, in 1943?
Well, he says,
We had electricity.
USA, 1943, some folks still was poor, and all the good men
was gone to war.
Cities, it was different,
if the movies got it right, Bowry Boys, n'em.
In the desert we did, okeh, in town, though,
we had electricity.
He was ten back then. He'd been huntin' rabbit's,
to buy Christmas presents from Sears and Roebucks,
since he was five.
C'mon, I say. No lie, he say,
BLM or some gover'ment
whatsajigger, was payin' 2 cents a pair fer jack rabbit ears.
'Said he bought Christmas presents for his mom and dad,
and my mom, with his first rabbit money, at five.
Shootin' with a single-shot 22, 12 cents a box,
Jack Rabbits, 2 cents a head.
Three Christmas presents, plus postage, $2.56.
Do the math, I think, and go -
Five years old, at ten, he moves to town, 1943,
we had electricity. That's all.
Oct 14, 2018
Oct 14, 2018 at 10:59 PM UTC
Here we go again,
Another day, another dollar bill to spend,
Still dividing my time, by seven twenty five
Plus tips up the bid,
School will "take care" of your kids,
Don't think about missing out on them,
Cause in the end we all gotta eat...
It's not as easy as it's made out to be,
This, so called "American dream".
It's been a scheme since the banks became a thing,
And it seems to me that,
Winning isn't really even an option....
Cops shootin' down innocents,
Ignorant people blaming the immigrants, Violence is imminent in the face of division.
And we are all victims.
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
The night was hot
So she retreated
To her front stoop
But things got heated
5 shots rang out
Into the night
And who got hit
You guessed it right
Dem thugs ‘n gangstas
Ain’t up to no good
Dey always
Shootin up the neighborhood
Pregnant and shot
Right through the neck
And so the ambulance
Made the trek
To the hospital
Five blocks away
Where she arrived
DOA
Dem thugs ‘n gangstas
Ain’t up to no good
Dey always
Shootin up the neighborhood
In the O.R.
It was intense
But due to God
And providence
A healthy baby boy
Was born
Torn from her womb
His mother, gone
An act of violence
Gone aerie
A pregnant woman
Caused to die
Because of someone’s
Senseless act
And nothing said
Can bring her back
Dem thugs ‘n gangstas
Ain’t up to no good
Dey always
Shootin up the neighborhood
In the O.R.
It was intense
But due to God
And providence
A healthy baby boy
Was born
Torn from the womb
His mother gone
An act of violence
Gone aerie
A pregnant woman
Caused to die
Because of someone’s
Senseless act
And nothing said
Can bring her back
Dem thugs ‘n gangstas
Ain’t up to no good
Dey always
Shootin up the neighborhood
(c) Copyright 2015, Cedric McClester. All rights reserved.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 12:33 PM UTC
The falling stars in this ironic night
make majesties
out of those cubicle-ridden New Yorkers'
routine Tuesday night daydreams,
where they make macabre escape routes
out of every perfectly-placed window
piercing the concrete sentences
that escalate from Ground Zero.
Your law offices,
corporate ******* headquarters,
are all bursting at the seams
with these drones,
the falling stars of the human race,
all composed of 14 different shades
of grayscale;
could've been
should've been
could've been shootin' stars
that year they were promised
lives of upper middle class incomes
and Lexus dealerships
bought to dent their status
on the neighborhood,
but that sparkle's been emaciated
by the truth,
the underwhelming spectacle of realization
accentuated by the clicking
and the clacking of company keyboards,
each little click
gnawing more at their patience
than the next;
the faceless brush strokes
gawk through that window,
their plans less hypothetical
over the calendar years.
"I can hear it calling me
from miles away,"
says Copy #90045280,
"see, they
SPEAK
to me, man,
tell me to transcend
the hurdle of the windowsill
and make my rendezvous
with an asphalt avenue,
to join the other casualties
of this rut-infested nation
in a life with the real stars,
falling and shooting
and jettisoning alike,
throbbing lights through dark sky silk
and into the hearts of even the most
robotic of this catalog culture,
and I frightfully,
excitedly,
must listen."
Apr 29, 2010
Apr 29, 2010 at 10:53 AM UTC
i was looking at you
and thought it would be fun
to shoot you in the ***
and use a big gun
you shook your **** hips
and said do me in bed
you pursed your pretty lips
and said i like to be dead
how do you figure
i'll look good when i splatter
please pull the trigger
and watch my skull shatter
no not in the head
id rather shoot you in the belly
please, baby, i said
you know i love jelly
you prefer stench
to a hole in the skull
whats wrong with you
are you really that dull
ok lets compromise
a bullet in the ****
wow that will hurt
i will scream i will grunt
i'm getting the fits
i'm upset just a tad
i'll shoot off your ****
before i get mad
alright honey
let's make it fun
ill open my legs
you shoot the big gun
i shot her once
she ****** my ****
i did her again
she went into shock
i'm not dead yet
but i'm starting to fry
whew i am really wet
but when will i die
soon darlin
do you think you can ***
i'm tryin hard love
but i'm gettin pretty numb
i shot her and shot her
she spassed and she lurked
i cumed in her mouth
then she died when she ******
i kissed her good by
she was **** to die
i ****** her some more
and went to the shore
now she's dead
i'm in a bad mood
layen in bed
i'm starting to brood
two days later
i met someone new
she said i like guns
what about you?
i walked outside
i started to cry
she kissed my mouth
and said im ready to die
i fell on the ground
ready to scream
what a merry go round
what a ***** dream :)
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 5:26 PM UTC
Breaking his enthusiasm as my pencil spasm insanely random like a Gatlin cannon my magnum blastin shots taken so I'm shootin then walking off like cam Nuked'm these civil lies causing an evolution I'm killing guys its the only solutions dude blowing smoke too much pollution on the same page until I go rampage and start looting enraged second phase using the bars from my cage to punch lines through these frames I'm battle rappin as quick as they can match'em let it happen captain Hook I'll patch ' em in tandom with passion my fraction got these ******* trashing like DJs scratching I'm thirsty for action these weapons I'm packing get rowdy they start clapping like jacks sons put a cap in your captain capitalize off what happens I'll top 5 of your top 10 you fighting for your life I'm just saying one with a slight of hand I'm disarming this man King of Kings Schooling these Lord of rings on thier aim, I'm top tier they lame I'm **** ' em all with the same ball and chain pen dragging them all to my hall of slain, this a deadly game, and I bringing the major pain.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
If I could simply overcome
Possessive nouns and vowel sounds
I would not need to study ******
Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns
But you make martyrs with your charter
School exclusive service sector
To systemically condemn me
To the destitution nectar
Of the corner story ******
Potential Cinderella caged in
The statistics of the mathematic
Overdose equation
Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost
Of tranquil ranking party skanks
Whose tanks plan out the projects
For the boys still shootin’ blanks
And then the slavers liberate
Some nation-state of god forsaken
Oil barons salivate
To taste the poison Apple’s stake in
Stock in stuffer markets takin’
All the products people makin’
Privatizing profit-docket lawless
Mother Nature rapin’
For some scarcity disparities
In wealth I can’t attain
You keep me feeding on the bottom
From the top, you make it rain
So as the brains continue drainin’
In amenity dependency
I tinker with the inner-machinations
Now the enemy
You’ve made me out to be you see
My generation’s future’s bleaker
Than the past in full HD
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
you were laid up in guadalupita
with camelia la tajena from la junta
and her tonto from la plata-
hiho-yo
shootin' tequila with pancho villa
jefe of the bandidos mc locos
- tweakin and twerkin chicas and cholos
and vatos ridin' with the vagos -
they were singing -
"*con cuerno de chivo y bazooka en la nuca
volando cabezas a quien se atraviesa
somos sanguinarios, locos bien ondeados
- nos gusta matar*"
you were kickin - breathing quickened
- bravo television tunnel visioned
to the tonto/pancho episode
en camera - exposed
pronto - camelia shot her tonto
dead - a perfect rose upon his head -
i like killin - she said
hiho-yo, tonto
we sang narcocorridos
all night long -
on the blue mesa.
r ~ 10/25/14
*song excerpt from:
"Sanguinarios del M1” (Bloodthirsty Men of the M1)” (2010)
"Translation: "With “goat’s horn” (AK-47) and bazooka at our necks/Sending heads flying if anyone tries anything/We’re bloodthirsty, crazies deep in the scene/We enjoy killing..."*
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
Jeremiah was a bullfrog
***Jeremiah was a bullfrog, he was good friend of mine
I never understood a single word he said
But I helped him drink his wine
He always had some mighty fine wine, sing it
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishiest in the deep blue sea
And joy to you and me
And if I were the king of the world
I tell you what I would do
I'd throw away the cars and the bars in the world
And I'd make sweet love to you, sing it now
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Yah know I love the ladies, love to have my fun
I'm a hard knock flier and a rain bow rider
A straight shootin' son of a gun
I said a straight shootin' son of a gun
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to all the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to all the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me
Joy to the world, all the boys and girls
Joy to the world
Joy to you and me***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtYnCmw2CWE
Have You Ever Seen The Rain?
***Someone told me long ago
There's a calm before the storm,
I know
It's been comin for some time.
When it's over, so they say,
It'll rain a sunny day,
I know
Shinin down like water.
[Chorus]
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
Comin down on a sunny day
Yesterday, and days before,
Sun is cold and rain is hard,
I know
Been that way for all my time.
'Til forever, on it goes
Through the circle, fast and slow,
I know
It can't stop, I wonder.
Chorus
Yeah!
Chorus
Have You Ever Seen The Rain?***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&v;=xDGuyGPJ_JE
Dec 23, 2012
Dec 23, 2012 at 11:07 PM UTC
Outlaws in Love
You, a chaotic beauty,
Shootin' smiles from distance.
A dangerous puzzle -
Lost, with in your own existence.
Me, a haywire mess,
Trying to make sense of things.
Willing to be by your side;
In summers, winters, falls and springs.
We, a crazy hybird of chaos and peril.
Ready, to have a crazy ride.
Ready, to be the outlaws in love,
Like Bonnie and Clyde.
Nov 11, 2018
Nov 11, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
De Camptown ladies sing dis song -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De Camptown racetrack five miles long -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I come down dah wid my hat caved in -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I go back home wid a pocket full of tin -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Gwine to run all night! Gwine to run all day!
I'll bet my money on de bob-tail nag -- Somebody bet on de bay!
De long tail filly and de big black hoss -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Dey fly de track and dey both cut across -- Oh! doo-dah day!
De blind hoss sticken in a big mud hole -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Can't touch bottom wid a ten foot pole -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Old muley cow come on to de track -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
De bob-tail fling her ober his back -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Den fly along like a rail-road car -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Runnin' a race with a shootin' star -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
Seen dem flyin' on a ten mile heat -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
Round de race track, den repeat -- Oh! doo-dah day!
I win my money on de bob-tail nag -- Doo-dah! doo-dah!
I keep my money in an old tow-bag -- Oh! doo-dah day!
Chorus
2.3k
Was I maudlin over our breakup? For a minute.
If I think of you now, it’s like a slideshow of unflattering images.
At the time, my breakup buddies reminded me you were a bad
choice - like a brand of deodorant that gave me a rash or fashionable shoes that chafed, even after they were stretched.
“Ruca,” my girlfriends would say, “you’re shootin-terrible, they’re a million pork-swords in the sea.”
Finally, I pulled the trigger - double-tapped us.
At first, reminders of you, those siren whispers of nostalgia, were everywhere - like the moon - which, I just had to live with.
You passed from memory though, that’s how memory works. Events fade, like last week’s chemistry test, or yesterday’s lunch.
Now, if someone asks me, “Hey, remember, what’s his name, your big love from high school?”
I say “Nope.”
I chose to laugh, dance - and shoot birds at the moon.
May 30, 2023
May 30, 2023 at 8:37 PM UTC
she came in out of the dark rain
her guns hanging loose at the ready
her worn leather death hand just driftin above
the handle of her colt
eyes searching for the hard glint of steel
in the faces of the saloons crowded floor
but none had noticed her come in from the storm
she walked to the bar and called out
for a whiskey
leaned and let all but gun hand rest
as one of the prettiest bargirls came up
and smiled for a drink
without conversation the girl lead her
to a backroom
and this gypsy's night was filled with hot passions
and the gun hand was forgotten
in the sweet arms of virgina citys sweetest rose
but morning came with the rolling
of the steamtrains whistle
and the sheriff calling out the gun hand
she had laid some dog of a man low
for putting his hands on his woman
now she got to hang
cant be shootin our law abiding folk
we don't take kindly
this gunhand
this leather clad hard riding woman
with the softest sweetest heart
the kindest of souls
wasn't gonna let em hang her
for shooting down a ***** dog of a man
so she kissed sweet rose long an deep
and bid that sweet girl fare thee well
took up her colt
out into the dusty raw heat of
noonday sun she stepped with
her gun hand driftin over the **** of her colt
eyes blazin for the fool of a sheriff
who had come to lay her low in the name of justice
in the name of their lie of a town
they faced eachother and drew pistols
both got off a shot
one fell to the dusty earth
never to rise again
the other laid down pistol
and walked away
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
Mr. Putin's opportunity
Please Mr Putin,
don't put the boot in;
hold back your forces,
from bombing & shootin'.
We know Russia's powerful,
fearless and strong.
We're expecting violence,
now prove us all wrong.
You've shown us your muscles,
now show us your mind.
Show us your heart man
then you may find;
People will listen
and show you respect.
Not just the hate
and the fear you expect.
Now is the chance
to Russia's great.
The hour is yours.
Don't leave it too late!
Briz 5/3/14
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
There he goes! He's quite a sight!
He's an Ace... a STAR!
The life of him! It's 3 at night
He's just pulled from the bar
He'll blind you... ***** your light
Anywhere you are
Is he cool?... or a blight
He'll **** you with his car....
Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad to the bone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He goes it alone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He should be goin' home
Rattletrap Cadillac
He'll hit you... then he's GONE.
He just got his SSI
So he's good to go
Drinks as much as he can buy
Hard liquor, don't you know
Has to give driving a try
And he don't go slow
When it comes to DUI
He star's up the *SHOW!
[chorus]*
The Grim Reaper on the road
He got drunk & stank
He ain't scared... a gun to load
And he ain't shootin' blanks
Jail may be his abode
If he weren't so rank
As to hit, and then just GO
Cuz he drives a tank!
Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad... he's NATIONWIDE!
Rattletrap Cadillac
With Jack Daniels on his side
Rattletrap Cadillac
Because he won't decide
To hit some trees...
*or give up his KEYS
AND GIVE UP HIS PRIDE!.***
SøuŁSurvivør
(C) 4/18/2017
Apr 18, 2017
Apr 18, 2017 at 2:51 PM UTC
*Politics have no place on this wood porch ... This veranda
was made for welcome , red hued Dawns and indigo Dusk ..
For watching the colors of a Georgia Fall , for counting Red Winged
Blackbirds , listening to the chatter of ground squirrels ...
This old stoop is for lively conversation , for the sound of the Grand Ole
Oprey on Saturday nights , making strawberry ice cream and bragging
about my tomato plants ...
Singing babies and grand babies to sleep , for reading good books with hot tea ... For anyone to sit a spell and "Chew the fat with .."
For any man to rest awhile and be at ease , for being in love and shootin'
the breeze* ....
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
I am not an outlaw, but I'm a gambler.
Loaded my ole Colt, then closed my Henry's bolt.
I'll rescue Sally and roam as a rambler.
First, I'll shoot the sheriff and rob his bank volt.
Ride into town, guns blazin', deputies die!
Blow the safe, grab the girl, get shot in the thigh.
Sally starts shootin', kills the corrupt sheriff.
Posse's chasin', a cowboy's love life if rough.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 7:06 PM UTC
Sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Cutting keys wit flour
****** man of the hour
It’s the sweet sweet powder
Sweet sweet powder
Lookin down from the tower
Homeboy, I got all the power
It’s the sweet sweet powder
Like I’m raven from the bowery
I be hittin fools wit trash cans
Wake em up in bout an hour
With that sweet sweet powder
Shootin three ***** like crowder
Hollarin hella louder
Like Aretha in the shower
Got that sweet sweet powder
That I’m given to the *******
Never ****** with those snitches
That are wearing goodwill britches
No I roll with the
Sweet sweet powder
Been running through the ditches
Eating salty ham sandwiches
You act like I don’t know riches
I know that
Sweet sweet powder
Be cutting keys wit flour
I’m da man of the hour
Jumpin in the shower
With the sweet sweet powder
On the ivory tower
Pimpin tricks by the hour
Holding all the ****** power
Got that sweet sweet powder
Now wit that sweet sweet powder
I get ******* like a Scotty
****** Baio was hottie
But with that sweet sweet powder
He coulda ****** gotten Molly
Little Ringwald in her prime time
Slap that *** like a hate crime
Sweet sweet powder blowin my mind
I got that sweet sweet powder
Fuckim man of the hour
Rollin with robin trower
Acting like a lil bow-er
With my sweet sweet powder
Turning trick by the hour
Showering with power
Giving ******* flowers
Got that sweet sweet powder
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 5:09 PM UTC
Woah, I think there's a
roller coaster in my mind,
Bunches of Sporadic thoughts
With one congruent disguise.
Pop pop poppin up
all over my head
And they're pop pop poppin,
shootin us dead.
My ideas, they're killin us,
They're surface feeders.
Eating the truth
Like tasty hour d'oeuvres
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 1:08 PM UTC