Broken within
by my own thoughts reflecting in
deflecting them
another opening in my heart
to be tore apart by criticism once again
I am in no competition
when my composition comes kicking in
I am my own man
call me a nomad
I just riddle them and move on like I should be on Ritalin
I'd toss the guitar
after I cut the strings an rig up the fiddle than
I refuse to bow
an not blow every syllable ta pieces, bits and shreds
I re-light an refuse an develop a bomb ass style instead
the thought that your not worth it
get rid of it.. get that shit out ya.. your misread
cause when you look up
you expose the harder side of your head