Seems I’m mistaken, when I’m told to just relax is when I need to be on my toes. I need to follow my nose.
Smell the difference in a truth and lies to pacify behind the lines of what I know and what I’m shown, ’cause there’s a difference.
Don’t tell me just to listen. Don’t tell me it’s so plain to see. Behind these eyes lies a fire soul. Please, don’t play with me.
Please, don’t lay with me in hopes of someting different when the difference is I’m far from not caring. Shit, I’m livid.
Depicted vividly, shots that I took with sympathy. But simply it’s a matter of opinion versus fact.
And this is tat for tit, hit or miss, I’m bound to hit something soon. Violent as my inner child, things I should have seen sooner.
So now with my firearm, my words, my deadly weapon. I stand in the line of fire. Me to you, who’s best then?