It is seventh period, and we have way too much free time on our hands. So, Sanchez and I are sitting here with Bowman, Laura, and Plehn chilling to the Gorillaz second newest album, Plastic Beach. I recently purchased it at a Hot Topic in Polaris Mall. I have just now decided I love De Le Soul.
On a side note, I am rocking my NWA shirt today.
Friday, May 6, 2011
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Bruiser.
There once was a man.
He painted souls for a living
and he lived in a dark brown house
with green shutters
on a cliff off the Atlantic.
His door, he always kept locked
like he had to keep something out.
He painted souls for a living
and he lived in a dark brown house
with green shutters
on a cliff off the Atlantic.
His door, he always kept locked
like he had to keep something out.
His colors ran in blacks and blues
he made the bruised.
He couldn't help but feel
he'd caused the things they'd do.
He would sit and sit:
night by night,
oh, how he'd cry
And his tears would fade the bruises
to bring the talent back to life.
he made the bruised.
He couldn't help but feel
he'd caused the things they'd do.
He would sit and sit:
night by night,
oh, how he'd cry
And his tears would fade the bruises
to bring the talent back to life.
His eyes were deep gray
and all life was shot to hell.
Just one look into a mirror
and he'd collapse inside himself.
He would go back to his easel:
shed a tear before dawn.
As the sun would start to rise
the cycle goes on.
and all life was shot to hell.
Just one look into a mirror
and he'd collapse inside himself.
He would go back to his easel:
shed a tear before dawn.
As the sun would start to rise
the cycle goes on.
And he waits
For his break.
For his break.
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