The words from my mouth ring out in simplicity,
It seemed my muse ran out on me explicitly.
Maybe even indifferently,
I just know with it went my soul,
My birth, my flaws,
my holes torn by my goals.
Left myself, without myself,
is that truly alone?
Or even less, I guess to this
my sins can attone.
From moan to broken bone
I remember so vividly,
Each and every downfall
this downpour ever did to me.
For now I'll look to the future,
while the past stays tailing,
My goals, as the cylinders of life,
Start failing.
Like a kite whose string is bailing
From the sight of the winds.
As the hail crashes down wearing
Even the heavens so thin.
A shot to the chin reminds me
what life's about,
That I gotta keep my head up,
until I hit the clouds
Until I'm everywhere,
But it seems like I'm just never there.
I don't even know what to wear, and what does it matter...
...when they don't even care.
Don't even stare.
I shadow myself like I'm not even there.
I'm just sick of it,
This stupid bit.
Just trying to land a hit being a lyricist,
Like the lounge show,
They make it all sound cool,
Until theres drug, sex, and lies
All tied up around you.
But I'm bound to make it
if I keep to it solid,
You can't even shake some words,
As if they were alcoholic.
The four minute rush
one gets from my track,
Could be tracked back
to the first charts I ever attacked.
Picking up the slack left to me by great ones,
Ones with loved ones all around them,
My words find them six feet under,
But still I surround them.
For this isn't my crown gem,
But it just might catch on.
We'll see if these wondrous lights,
Ever clap on.
Love Tinka