| I recall valentine use to be a pal of mine
|
| Till the heart broke kicked and crushed
|
| I need it calamine
|
| For the irritated battle lines drawn across my chest
|
| I messed no dollar sign
|
| Get remedy from Adam’s cleared up Palestine
|
| This little guy with acid nine if you try to ask him why he passed you by
|
| Left to find the answers out there plagued him hanged him out to dry
|
| Like sheets blowing in the wind no one can help him internalize
|
| The pain that let it tap the mind
|
| Till there’s nothing left to learn his timetables but disaster shines
|
| Sunlight on the mastermind the prime riders, lime lighters
|
| Talent show crime fighters, hind sighters
|
| Looking back to trace the thing defining brighter past decline
|
| Math is fine for other students but it’s who with wisdom lies in
|
| Matching blinds together like a graphic tetric bastard of the southern tribe
|
| Bringing rings around the boundless beaches with a tide
|
| Bringing that energy forever lasting life
|
| Being young is scary
|
| Quite a load to carry
|
| And quite unordinary
|
| Therefore extraordinary
|
| Different esmaticx motion
|
| Sipping the magic potion
|
| Define what true devotion
|
| Being young is scary
|
| Quite a load to carry
|
| And quite unordinary
|
| Therefore extraordinary
|
| Different esmaticx motion
|
| Sipping the magic potion
|
| Define what true devotion
|
| I recall Fridays use to be my days
|
| Young and in the hall ways
|
| Kids leering side ways at me in my new jays
|
| Walk man blasting cool jays
|
| On the bus ride home read what my eyes say
|
| Lazy for the weekend and the streets are my bridesmaids
|
| Football till sun down that was when the run down home bound
|
| Then up late cherish every instance
|
| On the fly grades
|
| Didn’t matter to me much
|
| Evident on my report cards and lines that say
|
| About my life and raising hell to every teacher frustrated with me and my days
|
| Off attitude in class I was daydreaming of the next Friday
|
| The attitude would pass when it arrived
|
| The thought of having children stresses me to know
|
| They have to find their own way across the asphalt
|
| Minus stage in my development yet so relevant to my final page
|
| For that final grade
|
| Being young is scary
|
| Quite a load to carry
|
| And quite unordinary
|
| Therefore extraordinary
|
| Different esmaticx motion
|
| Sipping the magic potion
|
| Define what true devotion
|
| Being young is scary
|
| Quite a load to carry
|
| And quite unordinary
|
| Therefore extraordinary
|
| Different esmaticx motion
|
| Sipping the magic potion
|
| Define what true devotion
|
| I recall fear being near every time I took
|
| A step towards a mirror on a clear day
|
| Weirdos are more weird
|
| It took years before weird was a term of endearment to this human here
|
| It appears that the dreary days I spent on your train were the teardrops of
|
| angels
|
| Spilling lessons on my layman’s terms
|
| Defining miracles occurred in daily life and city stripes
|
| Such pretty lights us seeing retrospective gaming terms
|
| Bringing wisdom to a black bird
|
| Flapping through the park of echo back to
|
| South central metro
|
| With angel breath as my petrol when the tear pin tell you let go
|
| Let it go
|
| Being young is scary
|
| Quite a load to carry
|
| And quite unordinary
|
| Therefore extraordinary
|
| Different esmaticx motion
|
| Sipping the magic potion
|
| Define what true devotion |