(2011)
My creatve juices Are drained From my brain To my veins To my fingertips
I want to wake up early See the sunrise with my own eyes with my own eyes Orange burst into blue
I don’t wanna be a prime. Or as bitter as a lime Spending all my time alone I’d rather be a lemon So
February. February 7, 2011 at 2:23pm A parrot mug and a cookie mess you made it effortless
Sitting alone In our old home My old room The walls still painted blue Boxes containing histories
Well, it’s mind over matter. And, if I don’t mind it don’t matter. No, I’m never gonna make
Why is everyone so uptight While I try to right my wrongs Claiming I drum To the beat of my own song Is not life a sing along?
Reach for the unattainable To become the unexplainable Meaning is interchangable If you rearrange the variables .
Stumbling around With my eyes closed I never found love at all Until I read The cryptics on the wall
Jezebel Oh Jezebel She lures me to her room. She casts her spell And boy I’m swooned,
Blue skies with scribbles of white Polarized eyes To shade the light
I captured you within a lense To ensure the memory last For when the moment comes to pass
Bright April Earth Begins To unsettle Shedding away
Cold Coffee Cigarettes Dirty Fingernails Messy hair Itchy beard
Everything I ever wanted seems to… I’ve hit the surface, yet I don’t… I’m a gonna, I’m a gonna, I’m a g… I’m a gonna, I’m a gonna, I’m a g… Order, order this court is now in…
