[Spoken Intro] Well now... Apparently there’s a council On what makes art real. Must’ve missed that meeting. I can’t explain this feeling Other than rage and agony From thoughts I am reeling From people bating me They pick apart my words misalign what they mean fain offense by what is heard will never let me be happy So I’m tired of pretending To be that which I am not Can’t just keep on bending It’s time to lay out my shot So you don’t like how I do things Think its fake, my words unreal The machine is pulling my strings not my words that make you feel you think your better for your tools these blessing that I’ve never had I feel forsaken and made a fool Your distain just makes me sad angles by which I stay the course they bare relevance to my plight conveyance I have, no remorse freedom to speak is my right I’m not quitting now, always having fun And I Won’t bow to the addled spite Ladden disregard may see the Sun No worries I’m familiar with the night Yes, the Tit for tat and all of that Through choice, not my cup of tea Yet since I’m compelled to this chat I might just let them flow freely Known am I for a sharpened tongue Darkened ink this pen has primed Words with depth are rightly sung This library of mine is rhymed Those that think little of my work Listen and reap my solemn vow I could retort and be a total jerk But writing this, chilled me out some how some things not worth being said so I’ll leave my thoughts and part what I want to say I’ll put to bed and keep this here open ended for the sake of art
