Countdown

[[Dug up from a lazy Sunday, on December 28, 2009]]

-- i concede it doesn't fit too well rhythmically,
and i apologize for the dodgy language.

one,
a single streak across yer four head,
announcing to the world that your back to stay,
telling them gits to stay the eff away,

two,
people that you're anxious to meet,
to tell em that they've won and you won't run,
you'll take it like you deserve till they're done,

three,
rings thrown on to phase the rest,
to think your tough enough to keep up with they're pace,
while you wonder why your in this mess,

four,
people you can't help but love,
and as much as you try to ignore the wanting in yer heart,
it keeps coming back and pulling you apart,

five,
flashes of pure adrenaline,
that cause hallucinations of superhuman invisibility,
leading to intense b*tchyness and hostility,

six,
pairs of narrowed eyes,
with silk gloves and a sadistic drive you'd prefer to deflect,
rather show em what yer made of and show you respect,

seven,
sins that you've committed,
either here or in the back seat of a luxury automobile,
using lie after lie to cover up the whole spiel,


eight,
prayers sent up to the big man,
to solve your troubles and help keep your head held up high,
to maintain your status and hit the bulls eye.

nine,
times you've cried alone in the corner,
questioning your existence in this big world of ours,
as every second the taste of it sours,

ten,
fits of laughter when this is all over,
relief flooding through your veins like a punctured river dam,
telling me its all over, this is finally who i am.