Boom and everything is upside down
rearranged, completely new
That’s the kind I dream about
no looking back, no bull, all true
a death of fifty thousand cuts
a slow decline’s what I despise
nineteen years since you struck me down, you
forgot to take the scales from my eyes
these days some folks are thinking baby
this time it’s all really going boom
dead broke, heating up, the well run dry
but then again my whole life I’ve been hearing doom
there’s no soft landing waiting for me nowhere
and it turns out I’m not the hiding kind
I hear you scratching at my door even now
I guess I’ll open just what did you have in mind?
No comments:
Post a Comment