Time forever concealed all the thoughts congealed, as
Memories served the past un blurred
Who holds in their hands of banana peels
While trying to think of intelligent words
But I have no say in what I think, my minds a toy, a kitchen sink
With strange imagery, that I know too well
Like the last piece, and the key to hell
Opened, locked, what have we to find
Empty beer cans, socks, half a bag of pork rinds
Cluttered around in an over sized room
The walls stay hidden for fear of the magic mushroom
and silly vibes, surrounds us all
We shatter the sound, stumble then fall
Laugh at what's funny, the air and the breeze
Ponder ways to make money, on the exploitation of me
I want to be you, you want something else
I could tell the truth, but wouldn't be myself
I'd just be a fool who's always lying, to himself, but no one's buying
Bulls shit on grass, where else would they?
A kick in the ass, makes some people say
Enough with the drama, I am sick of crying
Coming around like karma, watch old people dying
Sit up in your chair, don't be such a slouch
I can still smell her hair, as we kissed on her couch
Memories can be sweet, though at times fatal
Getting tested all week, on the skills of appraisal
Friendships that last, together can grow
Going way too fast, hands creeping too low
What are the points? to mad men's ideas?
Smoke alot of joints and pretend they don't see ya
Hide in a crowd, be hellions, rebellious
Start singing out loud, Mom's not here to yell at us
Back to time was the subject, I think on previous pages
Joys of writing a rhyme, I love it, A pen is my stage
And the world is an actor, in a dozen spotlights
The sun, a determining factor, on how long of a night
Sleep was my friend, though long, long ago
Will this poem ever end? Man, i just don't know
'Cause I wanna think of something, really deep and shit to say
Ah fuck it.....There is always some other day.
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