prose of a sad soul

The music fills me seepin' into cracks and craters

I'm nothing but a loser, a fornicator,

a sinner a downer, no wait i'm a drowner,

Im alone in a battle, uphill don't tattle

you can't ask the man to save my soul

only the righteous or rather the whole

to the rest of my puzzle

to which i'm simply a piece

and this world is only art to an artist, we are his masterpiece

we're only here to make deals

there is no privacy

we are mice in a cage

but maybe we are better off

running on this planet sized wheel

for the cheese

glossy eyes full of rage.

spinning miles and miles per hour

perhaps the eyes just want the power

they're betting on the winner

and behind the clock's shadow of the tower

the underdog's hour

the 15 minutes of fame

i'll devour any opposition

but thats my disposition

i'll take my position

with the right ammunition

your flesh will meet your maker

we all know you're a faker

so don't be such a limper

we all see through your temper.