A Proper Fashion
 

A Proper Fashion(Cut from the Right Cloth)

An artist without a style

As with his bars he’d fashion.
For what he’s penned up’s grown hostile,
And broke the fence it’s trapped in.

He needs the warmth the clothes can share.

The coat as white as polar bear.

To bowl a strike or roll a spare

He’ll need the proper shoes.

He hasn’t found a coat of white.

He writes in dark, it’s polar night.

The fight was lost, go home my knight.

You have too much to lose.


Real talk, I don’t care for a living from mic.
It’s the loan crook, the notebook, pictures of a Sprite.

But what am I going to? Where? I have the ward robe of a master.
So I’ll reside in Narnia amongst what is my fashion.