i keep thinking its november
its not ben
its march
im depressed all the time
my bellys not filled with starch
my best friends know ive got a
real bad sweet tooth
but these pearls stay white
for the photo booth
listening to old Drake albums
thinking about the Future
not Hendrix
but the one filled with exams
ex's and kids acting extra
hearing through the noise
seeing the wood from the trees
crowdfunding my energy
cant let my calendar
bring me to my knees
no cellphone when im out in Budapest
you wont hear a peep
when you're asking how i am
ill probably be asleep
or trying to find myself
or my pa**port
border to border
running relay like a sport
the bigger picture ill never abort
the picture being success and days
in the sun with my best friends
and letting go of pain and tying loose
ends
sometimes things are unclear
you just need to change the lens
all my guy friends are loyal
and all my girl friends are tens
from Braintree to Brighton
and all those inbetween and overseas
they saw what i saw way
befort the birds and bees
iPhone 7's and plasma TV's
now all i care about are
underground CD's from artists
that no one knows
and getting grades to make
my mumma smile
i miss those old trees
outside the kitchen window
i havent visited that village in a while
it feels like a minute
since i was 15
since it was november
i hated december
january 1st felt like a new me
the honeymoon periods over
now im just trying to improve me
i could disappear for 4 months
the only interaction being these
rhymes within your screen
dont doubt that ill text you back
right after my conscience is clean
and this workload is over
the return of the sweet tooth boy
with pearly whites
like the cliffs of Dover