What's Life
For years, I've never known, how to scream for help,
so I kept all these voices locked up deep within myself
foundations, they then melt with sea upon the shores
spent the night with a cigarette and the question
"what was life really made for?"
the rags, the riches, maybe the whole nine yards...
what about them cats that live a life behind bars?
can you walk through life; no guilt and untouched.
or are scars you wear, symbols, of not enough love
push it or shove it, own it and control it
If not, let the life you live simply sky rocket
see, I'm a watcher and you, you are worth watching
but are your days, worth the amount they are costing.
