"A Ballad Who Knows Me Well" by R. J. Spring
Living they've said is Hard Goin' through those motions Left 'em scarred I don't blame 'em But lighten Up Get into those lights Tip over your black pooled Cups.
Harley threw up a Math book It was only so far She could go It was shoved through Her ears and her Head shook It was somethin' She didn't wanna Know.
And oh my What is this? Listen and I'll show And oh my What goes there? It's only what is, It's just what We know.
I always was an actress But I had a run in With the Queen He threw a bag to My face And said I was intruding In his place I was to go to a Platform and Do a song-and-dance For him But I just grew so angry, man That b***h just filled me To the brim.
And my love is Strong here To withstand it all With me He makes it what I am Only a man I've ever seen I love, I love, and I do believe It's him I'll Never leave.
When I hear Dylan Talk I wish I had A Rainman His voice infects with Poetry and I hear it in My hands And my hands work so Clearly And it sets my thoughts ablaze And it makes me think so dearly What to do with all my days.
But Mama, she knows better What to do with me She opens my skull and displays My future to see And the thought of me as Nothin' but the crag that Lives a home She reflects my tangled thoughts And brushes through them Like a comb.
Oh, Once I learned of Trotsky In the history of the world Silly did I find him, And with his wild hair It was curled Izzie used to go With me to admire Napoleon's stance But she's gone away now She's only giving nothing a chance.
I read To Kill a Mockingbird No birds there die, I see And my lust for that gore and violence Makes Mama worry for me But it ain't real And no one feels It So cool off For a spell And know when the Corn syruped blood flows This chick is doin' Well.
I've got a Bolshevik For a sister Regulates what I've Got She's after my mind To blister And she puts me in a Wrong spot Doesn't even try to be Doesn't wanna live Unless she Gets on-a Hurtin' me.
I like to write and Sing it all But I speak though a Sketch at most To smudge my idea To paper Take a trip on my mind's Coast But I can feel my head's Gonna roast
I know when they say Livin's hard Yes, I see that my old life Has left me very Scarred And I don't blame them When they can't lighten up Sometimes there's no light For you to jump in. And sometimes I drown in My black pooled cup. And sometimes I can't win.
[End.]
this me
|