the beat was slow but the song was fast the words were muffled and from the past
scrambling with buttons and dials like a wild man in search of treasure
recalling beats, bridges, and versus measure by measure
I am frantic now and losing control like a beast is in my head tickling my soul
holding my thoughts hostage with with a fiddle made of gold
dangling a carrot from the end of a pole
on the tip of my tongue but just out of reach
thug life but poppa don't preach from here to the infirmary
shadow stabbing forgive and forget rock n roll all night benny and the jets
pretty girls make graves before you were punk idioteque
no no no none of it fits its all round when I am searching for square
I stare at the floor the ceiling my hands there's still nothing there
I am losing it now way to far gone but wait ...that melody that song
it catches me, cradling me like a newborn and brushing against my check
and just before the tempo begins to peek I remember the song and start tapping my feet
feeling the rhythm feeling the beat throwing on sneakers and hitting the street
moving my life day by day only asking that I hit play
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