A slight six hours from now I'll be a flight risk and powering down.
Battery on pause, not charged or dead but alive in a towering house.
Midnight! .. says the clock, the minion of time itself on minimum wage starving.
A critical stage except for each hand, racing in slow motion yet finishing late often.
Drunk and asleep behind the wheel, still feel like control is all I have.
Highbeams intact, I peer in the rearview, console and then the dash.
Nothing illegal, im good. I pass 8th and Martin and hit the stop.
A car on my ass, fucking asshole! I beg your pardon, as its a cop.
Kicked his lights on, I shit you not! So i kept on the gas for a few.
Just to see how he reacts, how pissed he gets for a laugh or two.
If i get attacked, then my only reaction isn't just to lay there.
I'm going to react faster than his ass has, the fuck if I play fair.
I'll fight to the death, you better see that fact through my eyes.
And when you step off, just know that I'll eventually pass you in line.
Blessed at the stake, my heart's just torn that this mess cannot fade.
Even still, a simple thought of me keeps the dead man awake.
Youth harnessed in slums full of what ifs and yes men.
Checkers and chess then. Pumped full of subtle aggression.
So say hello to the night, let it be your guiding light.
Wide and right, your aim's always off trying to hide.
Lied and cried through excuses you unwind at times.
Tried to find the middle but only arrived at WHY?
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