Madness takes its toll, please have exact change
Madness takes its toll, please have exact change. There is a gun to my head and soon I will be dead. If I make a wrong move or if I take a change I will be shoot. But my bullet is made of all my mislead hates and dreams and is shot from the gun that was conformed by the hared of mankind. Not but a few can say that they stand out from the rest, or can put down the best. Yet I am stuck in a world that has bottled up all my potential and cast me out to the open sea. All that I have left to show is my bullet wound. Shot so many times just for being “out there”. There are scares that are fresh from when I last had worn my black and there are the old ones from the first time I turned on the radio. Opened eyes are shut and free speech goes mute. Any one who stands out is to be put out. These are the laws that must be fallowed . . . right? That is what we are thought that is what we are fed. There is no way to give the system a doubt in there heads that what they are going is wrong. Who is the shooter of the gun? Why is it aimed at my head? He pulled his trigger and now I am dead. Like everyone else . . . I have fallen too.