Blue Monday Bloody Knuckles
Anoyther day passes as we grow older it seems to me that
one day this may be over. Cause life seems to furiosly
pull away at me beckoning with money and maturity. But
I'm not deterred this is my place and this is where I'll
stay. I'll stay. Try and take it away from me and I will
swing till my knuckles bleed. It's all been done before
everything is so old. My ideals are merely romanticized
dreams so I'm told. I clutch to what I believe but the
opposition is crushing it seems impossible to not
concede. It's hard to escape the feeling I'm destined for
nothing. It's hard to escape the sentiment my voice means
nothing. Everyday I stare the same dillemma in the face
every path in front of me is thread barren. Marginalized
and minimized I won't lose my grit. Disillusioned and
disenfranchised still I resist. Give me one ounce of
something worth fighting for and I will scratch and claw
until my fingers are no more. This is where I stand in my
place where I'll stay. Try to take it away and I will
swing until my knuckles bleed.
