Thursday 1 October 2009

eighty one.

Never have i thought of these scribbles as poems
to me, they've always been sort of confessions
the thoughts i was too scared to say to my aimee
the feelings i was afraid to feel, and if i put it down
i could pretend they weren't real, just entertainment
but to all my friends, to my mum and dad
who read these things and may think im sad
please believe it's simply the outlet for a darker side.
ah,
most of the time we'll crack a joke 
but rest assured every man has once been a sad bloke.


And if it is ever anything more swear to god i'll let you know
when the weight of my city gets too heavy you'll receive a text
my knees have begun to buckle you know what happens next...
trust I'm not depressed though, i ain't jump off joe.
nah man im better than ever had a great september
and got a feeling october will be even more superior
(.... i think im fronting. can you tell? 
am i falling... or have i already 
                                                , 
                                                  fell?)
                                   i think im good i think im well, after all
you can always light back up, when you're burning in hell
death isn't a problem, i heard a legend can live forever
these flames only will only make this man hotter
they say when life gives you lemons make lemonade
i'd rather paint 'em green and say i got a hand grenade
so now it's eighty one poems documenting eighty one problems
and if i was rapper these would be some damn good bars
but deeper than most, i guess i'd be less like jay more like mos
MF dude eating better than most though refusing to boast
and if you bought my cd you'd get the shit clearer than bose.
(... i think I'm fronting. Can you tell?
am I falling... or have i already
                                                ,
                                                  fell?)
                                                          will i ever become myself?