I dont speak broken Black vernacular

a cadence so spectacular

out of reach, on the beach

so I guess I wont be macin her

I got a question I wanna aks you

but I know the answer wont be true

is it smart to pour out my heart

or should I take the muted cue

to take my leave upon this day

pack my bags and run away

take the train to the golden plains

and find a place to make my stay

this disjointed rhyme is where I live

theres always something more to give

Ill fufill your need, make you bleed

with this newly smelted shiv

rambling in the night under the stars

dreaming of robotic flying cars

pulled down to Earth without a bit of mirth

I hope I'm a better drummer than Lars

I never know where I belong

except when I pen meaningless songs

so I'll keep writing ink exciting

and join the lonely, pining throng.

I just want to shear the blackened sheep

and miss some much needed sleep

when in doubt whip it out

I hope that dont make me a creep

I crumple into a dirty heap.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

It annoys me when people say aks.

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