Navarre
05-19-2005, 12:17 PM
+
with feet sunken into baren times, even i havn't seen
i'd learn to walk softer. i'd try to not use my feet at all.
to submit to the fall, all i've ever felt, i've fallen.
i'd fuck ferra faucet, if it'd put me in the driver's seat.
but even then, it's the car that drives, the boat that stay's afloat.
the driver only navigates, so that the passenger's free to choke.
hand me the compass, and the padded cardboard box.
i'll show you how to build a country.
with lighter steps, and with less feet all together -
this country CAN stand on it's own 8 legs.
----
an arachnid aims low
too brown for green to grow
----
crying everytime i step outside..
'cause it's there that i step inside, out of the rain, out of the pain.
the malnutrition enduced by every intoxicating breath only screams, "MOTHER NATURE!(i'm dying!!)", to me.
oh god, oh god, please give strength to me -
i tread so soft, but step so forcefully -
"and out of a crack in the road i arose...at first cautious, but impervious to the blows"
you see, i've been blowing it since i learned to let it out.
so when i fall deep into the steps i've created, i don't pout.
i laugh at, what i ironically call my situation, but never shift the blame.
too busy staring down at the grass, and at the prints my feet had stained.
like my teetering life, and my faultering country, the grass lay hauntingly still -
but like the social elite's, and Jesus Christ, it ROSE AGAIN......with a message:
"i don't fuck with yours , so please don't fuck with mine."
with feet sunken into baren times, even i havn't seen
i'd learn to walk softer. i'd try to not use my feet at all.
to submit to the fall, all i've ever felt, i've fallen.
i'd fuck ferra faucet, if it'd put me in the driver's seat.
but even then, it's the car that drives, the boat that stay's afloat.
the driver only navigates, so that the passenger's free to choke.
hand me the compass, and the padded cardboard box.
i'll show you how to build a country.
with lighter steps, and with less feet all together -
this country CAN stand on it's own 8 legs.
----
an arachnid aims low
too brown for green to grow
----
crying everytime i step outside..
'cause it's there that i step inside, out of the rain, out of the pain.
the malnutrition enduced by every intoxicating breath only screams, "MOTHER NATURE!(i'm dying!!)", to me.
oh god, oh god, please give strength to me -
i tread so soft, but step so forcefully -
"and out of a crack in the road i arose...at first cautious, but impervious to the blows"
you see, i've been blowing it since i learned to let it out.
so when i fall deep into the steps i've created, i don't pout.
i laugh at, what i ironically call my situation, but never shift the blame.
too busy staring down at the grass, and at the prints my feet had stained.
like my teetering life, and my faultering country, the grass lay hauntingly still -
but like the social elite's, and Jesus Christ, it ROSE AGAIN......with a message:
"i don't fuck with yours , so please don't fuck with mine."