The hate is strong with me
And I know I see it all like a bee
Multiple viewpoints and there's nothing
I'm not sure where to go from here
It all a matter of prospective I often hear
Where thing fall into place
When one doesn't have to trace
But fuck it all I tell you
No amount of have will lift me from my blue
Hah it's my queue to stand straight
But this fool had lost it all
And it's deep this fall
The call is all related to the screw
Where one knows deep down is adieu
How hard can it be to pick one up
Especially when you doing all them pull up
Hah it's a joke lifting me up into the heavens
But I know we are all a bunch of Cravens
I'm not interested in this crowd
They nothing but just being loud
I'm drowning this sorrow
Sir in the dark a blind arrow
All purple and blue
And not even close to a clue
No Sherlock living in here
Subtle warnings I fear