yeah,
ready or not
i'm lookin' for the number one spot
where all the dreams dwell yet all the schemes that i got
bear fruit from stunted trees planted wrong in bad sand
a bad man doin' bad deeds in badlands
lets face it face to face, the face i got's a lie
truthful thoughts from forked tongues is all in this devil's eye
i hate to be the writer now
i need to put pen and paper down
cuz i know i wont like how my words sound
thirty years old but 13 of those years were wasted
maybe cuz i spent about 13 of those years wasted
it's just a taste kid, need the whole poison's dosage
for this eruption of self-destruction to be fully in it's focus
no one to blame for this hard life, see
i did all to myself, shit, "damn you, me!"
yeah, this my pity party and nobody else is invited
but you'll see the celebration cuz my fucking brain won't hide it
sparks and scars, stars and bars
full rebel, bass and treble comin' out of them cars
i'm like johnny cash, actin' an ass in my dreams
breaking windshields with my face like my name was james dean,
ya nah mean?
and my scream of frustration woke the angels out they slumber
and they tried to save my ass from yet another blunder
but i cursed 'em, worse then, i fucking fought them back
cuz i thought the whole time they were landing on my back
to weigh me down, hold me down, crush me, crush me
i wouldn't let 'em try to help, now they can't trust me, trust me
would you trust somebody who can't really trust himself
or hates the self he is so much that he constantly wants death
to take him?
away, far away, today, to where children play
or rather they would if they could, if they were heard when they pray
but the deaf ears that ignored all those young aborted pleas
were the same ones that wouldn't listen when i collapsed to my knees
where's that mercy that's normally extended?
where's the love that's unconditional? did you pretend it?
was it a lie that was told to keep my mind at bay,
or just a game that you hoped one day i'd play?
i can't say that i don't blame you
if i had a weak mind to fester in,
extend hope, take it away, and give back to bless again
then i would, if i could but whether i should should be the question
no classes, no teachers, yet i'm still learning lessons
a wreckless wreck, fucked up with no respect
i breed hate like angry sex, so what did you expect?
breaking my self down, like a hooker with blood in my mouth
black eye, broken nose, and several teeth knocked out
life pimped me. oh wait, i pimped me
sold my soul for the sole reason that it meant nothing to me.
a whore to hedonistic intrigue that was more often than not needed
but when the game of blame is played, the advice was never heeded
so whose fault is it? mine, the world, the girl that broke my heart
the drinks, the drugs, the parties, the clubs, or living for my art?
all and none of the above cuz above all else i was tainted
with the blood lust of the hatred for myself that has been stated

07/29/2009

Posted on 07/29/2009
Copyright © 2025 Marcus Jones