Brush your lips against my parched soul
and do the things that makes me lose control..
Control over my actions, Control over my speech..
Control over myself and control of my reach..
Some people never just let go..
and then they don't know how to let their feelings show..
They tell me and you what to think, what to do
Who they think we are, from the kind to bizarre
No more pity, not even remorse
while the rumor bin is on it's course..
They say that we're not right
and you shouldn't just spend the night
with someone you don't even know
or else we'll call you a ho..
We don't care if you think your in love
because we don't push, we shove..
We tell you what to do, who to date
when to show up early, and we show up late..
We notice all the evilness that you reside
and we push all the others aside..
We call you weird and a kook
from a nigger down to the lowly wetback spook
We're the immoral masses that hide behind dark glasses
Spitting in your face when you turn you back
Smiling while we rush in for the reach around attack
We kiss your ass but destroy your whole existence
so when you come around, you'd better keep your mental distance.

01/14/2002

Posted on 01/14/2002
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