I look out my window,
the one I never clean.
But once you get through the muck,
it really is like a dream.
As far as your eye can see
nothing but perfectness.
But on this side of the glass
lies a steady stream of worthlessness.
Burnt Down Churches,
Jesus H. Christ
God Damn Curses.
My knees are buckled,
and my shoulders sag.
The burden can’t be lifted,
when the burden is all that I am.
To Jesus Christ, Fuck You-
This I say when I pray.
For just once, someone doesn’t question,
instead tries to relate.
Not except my denial,
Help Me slug it out with fate.
All I ask is for some room.
A little Le-way–The O.K-
To do things my way-
To use the back way-
Time to say- What I got to say-
When I want to say it-
Cause It may not be today or tomorrow,
It may not be next week………
Hopefully by then,
I should have these windows cleaned.
Cause once you get through the muck,
it really is like a dream.
lamemansterms
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