sitting in class
looking for my keys
found my keys
looking at her dress
can't stop looking
white dots on black
unable to avert my eyes
I didn't brush my
     teeth this morning
I didn't eat breakfast 
     either
I have trouble writing these
     days
too much of a hassle to do so
I just don't know anymore
wondering who put the rocks 
under Virginia's dress (that's
     a song I like.  Now I am a sellout)
To her I still attracte myself
I am bount to her with cordless 
shackles which I have given to
me. . . . .,
White dots on black
still unable to avery my
     attention
nothins is still as the same
it can never be it seems
just sit back and reading the
life of Patrice, thinking
why the work of Camus
is like crack for my eyes
. . .next verse is the 
     same as the first.
Why?  because there is no
     next verse.                 11-17-94


Back to menu



This page hosted by

Get your own Free Home Page