I strolled calmly down the side walk.
Pocket full of smokes, to myself I would talk.
In my mind, not aloud, I couldn't be that much a fool.
I never cared about all the idiots that might stare.
I never wasted my time and stop to ask how they could live with so much hidden fear.
I was smoking on my way to Hell, before I hit the gates, I came to light.
That's where I met the God I know today, and he told me about this one way.
This special kind of redemption, but a painful price I would have to pay.
Now, cursed to never feel anything but this strain. How I'm searching forever, into the lucid layers of eternity.
But that's just me.
I came into a crowd of fools, I watch them all from a distance, as they all sold their souls.
What a bunch of cowards, what a mass of disease, to this I couldn't help but think of one word. "Weak."
I can tell already, their dreams are bleak.
They must be blind to life, they must be ready to sell their minds to self inflicted strife.
Its just not my thing, to lose myself to drugs.
I'm not a fool that ignored the spirit giving me attention tugs.
I carried on, surrounded quickly through out life, with all of these women that were obsessed with getting married, before they could really ask, I vanished.
I couldn't stay close to some one so famished. Not my style to plant seeds that are vile.
Its not in me to torment a creation, its not me to bury a reason.
Straight out, and straight forward, see my hands, and into my sleeves, I am not full of tricks, what you see now, what you see at all, that is me. I just express all of this stress, I don't think any of you know how much I try.
That's ok, because I know one day we'll all meet in a place to settle the score, after we die. |
