#thereinstated

[There's hope but not today  Nope, they're not okay.  Choking, suffocate,  Hallucinations in the brain]  Maybe in the world we're all just doing our time.  Open up the window and embrace the sunshine.  Perfection is a myth, but it happens all the time,  Direction to misconception is the route to open minds.  I guess that everybody has a few regrets in this life,  Threatening thunder claps, the Gods up above in strife.  Families in feuding, infusing the words of life,  Into fueling missed emotions and mixtures of higher heights.  The cumbersome ponderings of a world are nothing new.  Wondering where to go, birds wondering whence they flew.  Hence the sky fades to blue from the clouds of grey before,  Thinking of different things in this life is a saving force.  [There's hope but not today  Nope, they're not okay.  Choking, suffocate,  Hallucinations in the brain]

Not a dope addict, but I'm cutting lines, not a masochist.  But I want to leave this mass behind and have the masses kiss  my asssssk me a question. Not a reverend but I try to preach.  Gotta second? Time is cheap,  My rhymes inside my mind just weep,  What a week, tears are streaming out, and the flow these rappers talk about is fake and flawed a good amount.  Couldn't count, my blessings with the little things that add up.  Testing everyone, this life is spiking every half empty cup.  Grab the mic and grab a pen, grab a pad and start again.  Enunciating lyrics without meaning to imaginary friends.  Accepting that my best might not be good enough,  Standing tall, but in a rut, I try to end but can not seem to stop.  Red octagon inches closer, now I see it here.  Morphing into shadows of a past, I didn't need to see.  Lead the way, of course my cranium is too delayed, so somebody call the coroner to take me to a place where I belong.  Somebody call the coroner to take me to a place where I belong. My songs are way too foreign for the crowds to understand,  Too intricate to cheer on, too deep for all the shallow minds.  Interpret what I say the way you can.  I feel like I'm from Kalamazoo.  My style sets me apart, but people won't have anything to do with me.  I don't have anything to prove,  but I keep it real, examining adventures of my youth.  Please tell me Whats The truth? I'm just an average guy  I've got an average mind. I'm Rapping average lines.  I've got a really cheap suit with a adequate tie,  I've got a really sweet tooth, and you're the apple of my eye.  Where's the orchard? Somebody find me Johnny Appleseed.  Help me plant ideas in every brain so people laugh with me.  I'm used to people scoffing now and laughing in my face,  I need some volume and some hype. I need a more than average pace. Take me away.

A siren sounds beneath my window, screeching through my ears, it's all I hear,  The wind blows out my candle and it brings a bit of fear.  The darkness and the lack of illumination phase me here,  I'm unaware of my surroundings, what's my name and what's the year?  Confusion about the music in my palm, they're from the Earth,  I didn't plan it, but the dirt beneath my fingernails is worth about  A hundred dollars each, the dedication pays off swiftly,  Oh so quickly  Listen,  the turpentine erodes a part of my soul, so pardon my foes,  The know not what they do and what sits beneath their toes  I'm under their noses but they see a ghost,  Weaving notes and leaving hope behind  I hope I find a sign to help me cope with all the things within my thick soul,  I've got to drink slow, thinking about the things I can't control.  Opening my eyes and closing my mouth, I'm not surprised.  Its Groundhog Day again, life's a crazy dream so I just write it with my pen and then I scream.  [This my thick soul, this is what I know. I am a child I'm surrounded with a big world. This is my thick soul. Listen to what I have to tell you. Thick soul. It's denser than a daisy is yellow. Thick soul. When the wind blows, my candle wick grows cold. A thick soul. ] You say I'm younger than you,  I don't know what I'm tryna do,  But the weather's getting nice it's like a hundred and two.  I'm mowing lawns in the summer light, rapping in the summer nights,  Reflecting on the past and thinking of another life.  From nothing to heights, I've seen a lover think twice,  I've seen a knife take another slice, paying yet another price.  Homies and strangers alike. Living like a single life,  Everyone's a little right but still lacking in insight.  Win right, I can fight, but wouldn't wanna throw punches,  I try to live nice, give might in tightly packed lunches,  Giving them away, I've heard shouting and gasping and pain,  Screaming in my dreams and seen reality ruin a day.  Hearing of the killing and the sadness and the hate,  Trying not to cry but when you blink it's too late.  An hour of my day to hear a life of bad things,  How could I possibly pretend I'm not satisfied how I live?