get down:

eyelids flip open, shake off sleep's shackles /
shower, brush, dress, climb deep into that saddle /
she arises early to get the fires burning /
she tripped at higher learning but keeps the tires turning /
part-time pays the bills, she'd rather play with hues /
she paints in blues cause the shades match her moods /
she has the attitude it's hobby at best /
she gets confused when they say they are impressed /
always an apologist, no pride, she swallows it /
they can't follow it, she's blind to her accomplishments /
they have a list, she's good at these things /
it doesn't seem to matter, she still bleeds green /
she doesn't put herself out, too filled with doubt /
afraid she's gonna stumble into a case of foot in mouth /
she's so tired of coming up odd numbered /
stumbling on blunders and sometimes she wonders /
if she's too damaged from the last crooked tooth smile /
to move past all her acid and loose bile /
they always take something away and leave trinkets /
happened so often, it's all that she's thinking /
they all fall for the same wolves in sheep suits /
she'll just blend in, smiling back cheap toothed /
forever stuck in those training wheel days /
she's not alone, seems that's the story of the age /



and with that, the last of the lyrics needed for saturday's show are complete. now to memorize and practice my ass off.

posted by adam @ 8:11 PM