TBD on Ning
hippieness friday
Didn’t want to offend you but I had to cause you were walking on the wrong side of the avenue and I didn’t want to kill you but I was made to cause your colors weren’t fitting and I caught you spitting at the unpaid balance that I wade through; death to you and to anyone who carries heat on my street your done for each one of you who threatens my session I say death to you and breath to me; know what I mean when I say I didn’t want to but I had to was made to so I can wade through and breathe…
Didn’t want to come here be where you stand in the sands of death and destruction in the red zone of the plateau you call home I stand drawing fine lines in the sands of time and when I return to walk the streets of my world and catch a glimpse of the same scourge that converge on the pressed and oppressed and often misrepresented I’ll stand and wonder if what I did made a difference; know what I mean when I say I didn’t want to but I had to was made to so I can wade through and breathe…
Doesn’t matter the what or the where the young or the fare if we take it not break it make it not shake it up isolation and desolation kinship to nowhere no heart no peace no higher calling just skies falling down on us; if we give up live up to no good standard take what we are handed might as well throw it in empty the cup we carry filled with the passions we married, the chips we won gone to mourning as we continue the journey of love; know what I mean when I say I didn’t want to but had to was made to so I can wade through and breathe…
Didn’t want to come here be where you stand in the sands of death and destruction in the red zone of the plateau you call home I stand drawing fine lines in the sands of time and when I return to walk the streets of my world and catch a glimpse of the same scourge that converge on the pressed and oppressed and often misrepresented I’ll stand and wonder if what I did made a difference; know what I mean when I say I didn’t want to but I had to was made to so I can wade through and breathe…
Doesn’t matter the what or the where the young or the fare if we take it not break it make it not shake it up isolation and desolation kinship to nowhere no heart no peace no higher calling just skies falling down on us; if we give up live up to no good standard take what we are handed might as well throw it in empty the cup we carry filled with the passions we married, the chips we won gone to mourning as we continue the journey of love; know what I mean when I say I didn’t want to but had to was made to so I can wade through and breathe…
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Comment
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Comment by Whiny Old Bastard on October 17, 2009 at 8:47am
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I love Olive Oyl. She's the perfect woman.
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Comment by Vikkig on October 17, 2009 at 8:21am
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World wars and war at home. We are all made to love and sometimes we have to do things we don't want to so we can continue to love is kind of what it's all about. So your comment does fit perfectly. Thanks.
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That's just crazy talk...
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Comment by ZenDog on October 16, 2009 at 9:27pm
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you were made to LOVE. DO IT!
That seems an odd comment in conjunction with the above post. What does it mean, exactly . . .?
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free the butterflies I say . . .
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