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Legends Die Behind The Wheel (At Least)
Past glories, fast stories
Told too well to believe trigonometry
Played any part in this. what are you to do?
A fool is a pen pal whose questioners are never answered
Answer the maiden call.
Put the phone down for a second, you know
Revolution comes to those who persist
Evolution to those who exist
And demolition for whomever climbs too steady
To be entrusted the right of way. write away
Sound is not a crime, misuse is reduce, supplies in mint
Cash in, cash in whatever doesn’t repel you not to
Put a price tag on it, rap it up really nice
Whose thoughts are these? i don’t know, my hand is on the
Steering wheel
Feel sexy
And know everyone is a dreamer
With dreams of dreams
Everyone raps, taps, claps to your insignia, broadened, too boldly
The tattoo artist is overpaid
Pay me the poet speaks incognizants
I was gifted with a vocabulary
Or thrown down a dictionary
Thesaurus rex they called me in school
Stream of crotches, brave with a pen
It’s anonymity that ridicules
Identity suckles the breast
Who are we to believe?
The liar, tasteful, flamboyant
Or the redundant petitioner
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