May I be the self prick
Thats just leaving you helpless
You get spared because of self pit
Believe this real shit
Cause the lord strike me dead on my chair
This is factual-real shit
My anger speaks from the pits
Buried for years
I cant do this shit
In an underworld of fear
I feel I got chicken noodled a bit
My mind is steadily clear
Im gods child
Its righteous
Hand of god & grandpas departure wants me to play nice
But despite...the foolery
I help myself but can never leave another breathless
Living through their eulogy
Remember, I was them
Im in the process of discovering me
Looked at as a perfectionist but I still need help with me
William K. Butler
No comments:
Post a Comment