as she goes,
when she stops,
nobody knows.
I remember,
Not much,
too hard to touch.
I remember everytime I bled,
Seen red,
Buried the dead.
Been corrupted, losing that, sense of innocence. Or trying to rebuild, on something that is broken.
And everytime,
a new memory becomes a new part of me,
I get lost, trying to hold that feeling.
Thinking only the words between,
Jumbled, fumbled, archaic mess.
Human nature, tend to put yourself down, when you're at your best.
If I'm pulling a 98%, 100.. hooraaahhhh... yea.. you better expect better.
That type of thought brings, the bread and butterr.
Sometimes, I feel like one of those horses rid off until it's last leg..
Or even if I was Clint Eastwood, and you insulted my horse, and I wasn't taking it, and I shot you down before my last drag.
Or I even analyzed you before you even reacted after taking the piss, even on my leg.
I don't say much and there is a reason for it.
Maybe I'm broken, I twitch when I sit.
Or maybe it's all the hype of nothing.
Yeah, you know.. talk, talk, wouldn't that be something?
I'm suprised, in all the days I've fought for,
that I haven't past out on the floor,
gone completely blind.
There is something some might not see, but it is what I truly hide behind.
It's that shell of a man, holding back my screams.
And the mistakes I've made, building the foundation of my dreams.
garden your soul, and it shall grow.
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