Stared at the ceiling
Lonely feelings...
Crusted eyes back I'm peeling
Strength from somewhere in me I am reeling
To pick up my dusted bones
Outkast third single, call back to dome
No agenda just a feeling
No agenda just a feeling
There's something out there for me
But opinions other than my own are scaring me
And that, realization alone can make me step scaringly
Apparently, it's now rare I sleep merrily
Rare to pave life roads caringly
Why you do that sense?
How do that make sense?
Now you use boredom to k** this f**in' pretense
Congratulations...
Man, this can't be reality
Where I'm becoming the hermit life's casualty
Protocol shoves it off casually
Pride looks connection dead in the face to say battle me
Sarcastic channeling of Yeezus to come save me
All based disciples pray for me
I'm half serious....
Someone pray for me...
I got $8.50 plus a machine ahead of me
Indifference in the head, gay feelings below the rib meat
I'd listen, but my feet walk too straight and fast to compete
I know the truth is there underneath
Beneath the pleat of ego and embarra**ment I'll later write in a white sheet
Played out and thrown out writ tens I don't even want to speak
Matter of face f** the feet with the machine...
Honestly someone ________
Someone like a target of desire, fictional
And I supposedly graduated higher
I still wear a face like Mike Meyers
Or a tad more hostile
Feeling like my chest is a brothel
Asking for, getting it and nothing more
No beneficence, in return to it there will be no deference
And courage is now as overrated as heaven-sent
But I could use something heaven-sent
Courageous, less diffident