I`m from a place where everything
is a mirrored image where
I look exactly like me but
I got nothing to call my own
and I`m giving up. I never was the one to follow up
or follow through.
I`m festooned; a parlour goon, at best, I`m two,
one for me, some for them and one for you.
It`s safe to bet I`ll never follow through.
I got more phases than I got room,
and I`m so selfish it`s a virtue, amazing, a statement,
my own replacement.
my own replacement.
my own replacement.
Don`t let those demons inside show
through my eyes its my business.
What I do is mine not yours.
Let me demonstrate this doubt,
and I`m giving up. I never was the one to follow up or follow through.
And with enough guesses you`ll
discover every weakness inside this room.
Hope I don`t show through.
I got wisdom to insight moves.
And I`m giving the best that I was,
fitting these gloves/beating the scrub.
I just haven`t been able to get mine in years but I persevere.
The years gave chase to idle fears still held within a stare.
I fled to higher grounds so desperate.
Still on my own with my resolve another breath unheard
and I`m caught listless in fray.
