Friday, July 28, 2017

Old accord

We tell ourselves that it's getting better
That we're moving mountains
And that we're friends with the animals around us
But see, a branch just fell down

I've been practicing jumping out of the window since I was 8
I've been practicing collecting stones and drinking tea
I always go for the hardest route
They feel entitled to my sense of entitlement
To the cross eyed justice blowing my head off
But it wears off or washes the streets 

We're special now, rising independently
Praying that God would make something of us
An old accord puts me back in my place

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