Robots are real cool... but Dinosaurs are better
Constantly moving, truckin' along the same dusty roads
looking for the green, blue and gold havens
that showed me life is more than this wrangled down,
and hog-tied conformity laying on the tracks.
With my black and white Chucks laced and my suitcase
busting out, sticker-encrusted and loaded to the brim
my tweed cardigan blowing in the wind and random little
red string things tied around already too skinny wrists.
Missing all the shit that I thought defined me
for one quick moment; the reasons untold really.
Leaving mistakes behind and bleeding out ears to
Ready Fuels wasted on potent coal and gasoline fumes.
Back to the wind, exhaling heavy that musky whiskey breath
and too many stale cigarettes tugging at my heartstrings.
Grimy hands tracing down multi-colored Milwaukee boxcars,
and kicking unwanted stones like it's no one's business.
Dispensing my aggressions, acting like I'm punching clouds
washed out like watercolors I did back in ancient art classes;
not so old projects still sitting back on drawing table desks
wasted on causes that were just too important to let go.
Emotively jaded more than before, just feeling like all
that made me something isn't really good enough.
Still chasing down sunsets and that free spirit-living,
cheek-squeezing snapdragons in the springtime
hard to keep it meaningful, marveling at my desire to live
in ways that have anything to do with lawless risks.
As long as happiness is the culprit of the desire,
keep on dreaming, pushing the shine into a meaning
that turns your colors into your own painted reality,
simplifying your true self existence on gessoed canvas
Even if it means robbing banks like the infamous Bonnie Parker
and Clyde Barrow just to have fun and love doing it.
Carefree about the consequent chances that are taken,
since each motivation is, I guess, good enough to start over
Cleaning off gray-suited slates of those broke back corporates
sent to climb steel ladders that lead you to absolutely nothing
Molded like mandarin orange j-e-l-l-o with weird veiny cocktail grapes
and mechanically sliced, abnormally pale maraschino cherry halves
carelessly wasting mother nature's precious natural resources
just to end up feeling empty inside like industrial metal skeletons.
looking for the green, blue and gold havens
that showed me life is more than this wrangled down,
and hog-tied conformity laying on the tracks.
With my black and white Chucks laced and my suitcase
busting out, sticker-encrusted and loaded to the brim
my tweed cardigan blowing in the wind and random little
red string things tied around already too skinny wrists.
Missing all the shit that I thought defined me
for one quick moment; the reasons untold really.
Leaving mistakes behind and bleeding out ears to
Ready Fuels wasted on potent coal and gasoline fumes.
Back to the wind, exhaling heavy that musky whiskey breath
and too many stale cigarettes tugging at my heartstrings.
Grimy hands tracing down multi-colored Milwaukee boxcars,
and kicking unwanted stones like it's no one's business.
Dispensing my aggressions, acting like I'm punching clouds
washed out like watercolors I did back in ancient art classes;
not so old projects still sitting back on drawing table desks
wasted on causes that were just too important to let go.
Emotively jaded more than before, just feeling like all
that made me something isn't really good enough.
Still chasing down sunsets and that free spirit-living,
cheek-squeezing snapdragons in the springtime
hard to keep it meaningful, marveling at my desire to live
in ways that have anything to do with lawless risks.
As long as happiness is the culprit of the desire,
keep on dreaming, pushing the shine into a meaning
that turns your colors into your own painted reality,
simplifying your true self existence on gessoed canvas
Even if it means robbing banks like the infamous Bonnie Parker
and Clyde Barrow just to have fun and love doing it.
Carefree about the consequent chances that are taken,
since each motivation is, I guess, good enough to start over
Cleaning off gray-suited slates of those broke back corporates
sent to climb steel ladders that lead you to absolutely nothing
Molded like mandarin orange j-e-l-l-o with weird veiny cocktail grapes
and mechanically sliced, abnormally pale maraschino cherry halves
carelessly wasting mother nature's precious natural resources
just to end up feeling empty inside like industrial metal skeletons.
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