*these are things that i have written*
bind
the smooth cold handle
in my clenched hand.
the sharp deadly blade
against my heart.
the heart that was broken
and never mended,
for the right thread never found.
soon, all this will not matter.
soon, the binds will be cut.
soon, i will fly free.
to be missed by no one,
exept for the ones who kept me from flying.
the ones who have bound me to this earth.
now i can be free.
my beautiful blade will cut my binds
and free me.
so i can fly.
johnny can't play no mo'
you lil' chillun best get on
johnny can't play no mo'
his throwin' arm gone cold
an' his runnin' legs gone limp
an' his laughin' voice gone quiet
best take yo' games somewhere else
fo' johnny's up meetin' his fath'ah