As our skin crawls from your bones like an ice cube melting in the sun
and in your dumbfoundedness you try to find displeasure in the fun.
So you eyes go wide with your overwhelming fear
of something so close, it whispers in your ear.
A fear that crawls down the spins of your spine.
The innermost fear where the light can't shine.
So you deal with the everyday pain and torment
from all the pain and sorrow you've caused to ferment.
In the sun of hate, In the sun of freedom.
You like to be caged up like a hunting falcon
knowing you'll always be fed.
You know what's ever been said.
So think back deep into your head
and understand why I think your ass is made of lead.
For you don't do anything other than bitch and moan
and you have the nerve to ask why you're all alone.
Maybe if you'd get out the house and off your ass
instead of giving us stoners a bad name for smoking grass.
I can sit around and smoke my dope
but with everyday life I can still cope.
I wander around with my flesh and bone
and yet I'm not sitting home alone.
So I just want to be free to do what I do
I live in America, is that something new?
Or is this something that you think is wrong and will stand on till I die
and smile in my face as you watch the sparkle fade from the life in my eye?

06/14/1999

Posted on 12/16/2003
Copyright © 2025 Aaron Howard