It’s just that,
you never seem to dream anymore
you throw on your Easter suit and
jump out the window to your great escape
I’m sitting here wearing the TV set like it’s the new catalyst for blindness
cure my windows
cure my soul
well I can tell you right now that it didn’t work
cause I’m in the back of math class and
under this heating source
my mind ran like a 1865 slave preaching freedom to his crimson flushed feet
I was gone with spaced dreams
carefully selected for my liking
vibrant like a painting
splashed before my closed eyes
if only they could never stop
but could my mind confirm for me the variance?
am I all here now?
am I familiar to your cold touch?
how much do you care for me?
cause if you can put a price on love then you must be a prostitute
I give mines out like a soup kitchen
only to the needy
your business suit wearing ass isn’t welcome here
and your Prada shoes just scream I want attention
you said you wanted to fall through my eyes
that you need to know if you were in my mind
believe me there’s nothing there
you marred the purity of memories with you
sullied your reputation
rose petals are just pushing you back in the game
in a world where sex is key,
love is the highest bidder and your credit card just maxed out
Inspired by a rough patch in my life. I was 14 when I wrote this.