If there isn't something different in the box this time
I have sworn I'll turn this bus around upon a dime
And if I roll this mother on that hairpin switch
Depending if I walk away from that wild pitch
I've spent a good part of my life behind a desk
I've not been writing novels, or elegizing an arabesque
I've sure as hell not been finding something different
And lately my pages seem like just another place I vent
what
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