golden shower with candy golden raindrops,
but I'm outside with filpflops,
thats when you know I'll flip and flop.
like a fish with air filling its lungs.
I escape out the shit like cow dung,
next thing a song will be sung from
a magic horny harpy singing is last song sung
like negativity filling my feelings.
to the top of my soul's ceilings.
then next thing you know i'm hurting my own
feelings.
from the heart beat that beats its own beat
from the mindless catastrophe of
absent passion's heat.
bitches hate me cause I can't satisfy them
trying to be fly, but can't fly with them.
aint witty, but i'm a little too thrifty.
fuck buying them a drink, I'll buy my own forty.
dress not fresh because I dress with shorts
and a shirt that don't fit, cuase i'm sporty.
Mixed matched with red heels like dorothy.
bring me back, I'm not in kansas no more,
slap the back of sasquatch, with them kids lingering
in the alley stealing my wristwatch, I'm so brave i
wear my pants backwards like criscross.
the sounds of whackwords, transform to a delorian, backward
to the future of hacked words.
forty for me, cause in ten years I'll be forty.
my libido descends so I won't feel horny,
I've given up since I was four, don't want to drink no more.
any of my accomplishments is just a folklore,
like a thousand homeless men I smell of defeated n poor.
with thousand bruises and cold sores.
with pessimism pouring out of my open pores.
I adore driving a car four door express, with a beat down
lewinsky dress, as I address the the masses
and conform them with masks.
You better turn to a physician about your heels
Posted by: Concordia95 | 05/14/2010 at 09:06 AM