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The Weaks
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To Thine Own Self Be True
Some people with better lives
Just won't set an example the way that you do
With your warm blankets and warmer eyes
In good karma we sleep until we're all descended to home
Slow days bring me better times
like rye whiskey on ice, a hot shower and breakfast with
A pair of your finest wives
Throw them through the gauntlet
They're looking for places to hide
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But you're behind
The other side pulling the strings
Her fate the whole time
The apple sews seeds to be fine
Be still my heart, Carry on
I won't let it get me down
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