we swallow our pride in miligram form,
scribbed in scratch to snuff the preachers scorn,
the inner conflict of being normal,
but that perscription paper is always torn,
in perfect percision and customary form
taken to the medicine of god, with an ego just born

Maybe?

i'll write the poem, the one you know that was almost sewn. more distance behind than inside of ourselves, we've learned each other and our lackluster tells, so tell me you love me with church bells and lost wishing wells. did you ever notice the luck i struck in the encircled trails of repeat and i should have known you wanted this defeat; but it ( Read more... )

i wasted so much time on a girl ( Read more... )

the smoke twists around the non stop ( Read more... )

summer time sun shine ( Read more... )

that was much needed, i love to see you smile.. it kills me.

bleh! i haven't wrote in a while, this shit isn't that great.. everyone lyricist needs to spell out his name at least once ( Read more... )

i am so stupid, why would i even say or do that?

you wrote a reply, with a smile and maybe a truth of a lie. i'm not your typical guy, from addiction to looking fly. i have dunks, but they're black - go money with my trunks. why do you keep me around for words like punks, conservative objectivist, faith in reading nature of ayn rand's taste. paste the words from our heart, countless vibrations, ( Read more... )