(no subject)
Miss Intuition, the half-truth harlot,
Got her suspicions, lacks proof but wants it
I've been practicin'
grabbin' the noose when the knot slips,
Re-wiring my mind
to make the firing squad miss.
And while they're busy reloading, I'm decoding
the messages she sent with this key that I keep holding,
But it's a copy, and the lock seems broken
Got me chokin' on discussions I cannot keep open.
I'm fully clothed in this cock-tease moment.
The last cigarette sits between my lips
But I will not smoke it -
While it dangled, I got strangled, by a second hand,
Broke the ropes when I held my breath, and let my chest expand
Threw the stogie to the lonely hitman for hire,
Told him he owed me, and he showed me, his hand's on fire
We didn't shake on it; He nodded, I nodded back
He lit the cigarette with his fingertip, and dropped the gat
I started walking on the tracks you should've tied me to!
I waited for a train to hop, but stopped to say good-bye to you
When I turned my head, I heard what you said:
"Murder him dead -
try to do it with the girl in his bed"
So I fled.
Remembered: one should never look back,
There's no direction home, only blood on the tracks
Stuck in the past
I jetted - and left the red footprints
for them to follow, headed toward tomorrow
And I took sips from the flask,
That you bought me. For my sober anniversary.
Her dad tracks my scent -
She's got her old man in search of me
He knows where I'm headed; he's been there
King of the home, sits on his throne
like it's an electric chair
I'm the heir to that domestic death sentence
I see people accepting lethal injections,
dead in seconds
They confuse prison for a Bed N' Breakfast
Use their one call on voice-mail, to see who left a message
Could it be her? Could it be!? They're desperate
Mad at me, 'cause they lack a strategy for exit
Nobody pregnant, nobody get hurt
I got lost on this head trip, but I won't talk to an expert
My legs hurt,
'cause I've been walking with cement boots
Ever since you lured me to the water bed,
to get cute
She had a wet suit
and dry disposition
But couldn't execute that type of mission...
It's no small time thing, organizing my ending!
My book of life's a "Choose Your Own Adventure" -
With a circular section!
You can tell your friends I walked all over you,
But you know that's not what these boots were made to do
In fact, you had them crafted at the store,
You said, "Baby, slip em on"
I don't know what you take me for.
Knew what was up once I felt nailed to the floor,
Since the key didn't work, I kicked my way through the door
I keep moving
I go from house to house
I stay committed
like one foot in, one foot out
I bounce
Yeah I'm leaving this place
Divorce papers falling the fuck out my briefcase.
I am no destination
I am just the journey
So don't go settling on me, love
No, don't go settling on me. (x3)
Speak of me in your travels
Take pictures if you please
But don't go settling on me, love
No don't go settling on me.
...
...
I found something here, I want you to have.
It's not much, just a story, but it's all I've got so take it, here.
It's called Dylan.
Dylan, his drug of choice was more.
So Dylan took more, and more, and more until he woke up
babbling in a pool of his own traffic jam, realizing
he is killing off the best parts of himself in claiming
he could read people's skin.
When he looked down at his heart flap, he said "Boy,
Go find your spine and ride it outta' here."
- Sage Francis, "Keep Moving"