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Give me corruption so sweet. When underground purpose is faltered. Give me solitude with thought that undergoes empathy, its faltered. Give me nights at a gas station with the nightly stoner, or a guy with a boner. I'll be fine. I'll suck it in be his friend, my heart is mine. Tell the high school dropout the college boy knockout they aren't mine I'll be fine. I take it this heart is mine. or its lying I'm just trying to tell you that I'm fine the mystery men that stubble in, into our lives have their own thoughts and their own dreams, but we don't seem to care we know that we feel. Just that it seems surreal that you'd cry. I know its not our mission we got misused information just take this into contemplation I'm fine. |
This an intriguing (and schizophrenic) write that openes with an attempt to yourself from the pain with an inscrutible, brave face (trying not to care), then morphs into the more direct anthem of independence you describe in the intro. I'd suggest at least one thorough revision to clean up the typos and clarify the opening eight lines ('sweeting' in L2 seems awkward-perhaps 'fleeting' would be more appropriate; 'undergo' in L7 should be replaced with 'undergoes', or 'thought' in the previous line should be 'thoughts'). Those lines by themselves are an excellent foundation for a very fine write. Take care. Bill.| Posted on 2006-02-16 00:00:00 | by rws | [ Reply to This ] | |