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Edited on Sun Apr-17-05 02:58 PM by Bok_Tukalo
Why does it seem that music peaked in my youth? Does life slowly grind down the further from 25 you get and silently slips away around 35? Do we start dying and that little daily death manifest itself when given a choice between Eminem and Natlie Merchant, you choose the familiar and remembered and not the new and vital?
Or does new music just suck?
that young boy without a name anywhere I'd know his face in this city the kid's my favorite I've seen him, seen him, I see him every day
I've seen him run outside looking for a place to hide from his father the kid half naked and said to myself,
"o, what's the matter here?"
I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses he's their kid I stay out of it, but who gave you the right to do this?
we live on Morgan Street just ten feet between and his mother, I never see her but her screams and cussing I hear them every day
threats like, "if you don't mind I will beat on your behind" "slap you, slap you silly" made me say,
o, what's the matter here?"
I'm tired of the excuses everybody uses, he's your kid do as you see fit, but get this through that I know what you do and what you did to your own flesh and blood
"if you don't sit in your chair straight I'll take this belt from around my waist and don't think that I won't use it!"
answer me and take your time what could be the awful crime he could do at such young an age?
if I'm the only witness to your madness offer me some words to balance out what I see and what I hear
all these cold and rude things that you do I suppose you do because he belongs to you instead of love and the feel of warmth you've given him these cuts and sores that won't heal with time or age I want to say, "what's the matter here?" but I don't dare say.
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