Run out of rhymes
Oh I’ve run out of meter
and my slick car of thought’s
just a junked out old beater
I’ve run out of juice
there’s nothing to run on
I’m tired of fighting
of strapping my gun on
and facing the hostiles
the whole world of others
Lord where are my sisters
Lord where are my brothers
Lord where is the love now
Lord where is the point
This world’s out of balance
The time’s out of joint
The time’s spilling out
of the cracked hourglass
just my usual bullshit
in my same old morass
You can read an explanation of the origin of these lyrics here
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