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Sixes C
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Blue Lines
Uh.
Yeah.
(1)
Dream chaser,
laying here at the bottom teir.
Smear erasers,
dazed in fear and a lot is clear.
Sphere of capers,
graze and jeer so the bottles near.
Sneering hazers,
hate and leer and no fathers near.
Peering shaver,
staying clear, lets the throttle steer.
Clear the paper,
face the fear and get out of here.
Hear my prayer,
lace some mere words with a lot of tears.
Sear the taper,
trace my years, they've meandered.
Looking down,
but I'm laying on a mirror.
Hang my head,
still gazing to the sky.
Tears and vapors.
Too broke to roll papers,
so I'm gearing up my resin scraper.
Procrastinate and it's forever later.
Mind sparks,
then I'm thinking up a sweet rhyme.
Envision the ink's atoms,
flow 'em, move 'em, and refine.
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Eyes south as I'm lost in the beauty of my,
reflection, of these Blue Lines.
I said the word beauty because beauty is what soothes minds.
To my stomach side
is an earth.
To my back side
there's a deep sky.
I'm pondering in my own thoughts,
thinking the Creator must have been a sweet guy.
So deep in 'em,
I wonder what his were like.
Guilty seen with a fifth of whisk or Ciroc.
So free
like I'm forty-five degrees
hanging freely
off a mezzanine.
That moment is forever,
or so it seems.
Now I'm floatin' over the ocean
gaining wings.
I feel I've felt in a dream
what Heaven brings,
but the wings keep weakening.
This is the part that only lasted a second.
Snapped out it,
now, I only hear 'em sing.
()
Reality.
Drownin'.
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