Tuesday, January 03, 2017

2.1706 : 1/3/10 : Grind

I'd call it a grind indeed
Grindstone's what we carry on our backs
in a bowl of scouring need
one day we'll be fine enough to fall through the cracks
is it all in clean living doc?
jumping jacks and wheat grass juice
punching one after another clock
eschewing whats good for the goose
I want my little vices so much now
I want my little comfort fetish
known it won't take its final bow
Still I dream of it with what seems relish
maybe it's the same just every time
maybe there's just no dodging the grind
maybe every little slide is not a crime
maybe its really all just in my mind

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