Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Plethora of you
*I just hate it when I get overly attached to someone.
Sting, like a bees.
Burn, like a fire.
Red, like the original Native America.
You stain me like wine.
I rub you out but
There's always a faint memory of you.
You blind me like the sun.
I'm not supposed to stare at you,
It becomes scorched into my memory.
You rage me, very badly,
An anger I care not to battle,
Though you're the only one fighting.
But I cannot help it,
I'm very intrigued by you.
You are a memory linked to
Every coffee cup,
Every TV program,
Every inch of air I breathe.
There's no break from you,
You've besmirched my environment.
March 18, 2005
Suge
Sting, like a bees.
Burn, like a fire.
Red, like the original Native America.
You stain me like wine.
I rub you out but
There's always a faint memory of you.
You blind me like the sun.
I'm not supposed to stare at you,
It becomes scorched into my memory.
You rage me, very badly,
An anger I care not to battle,
Though you're the only one fighting.
But I cannot help it,
I'm very intrigued by you.
You are a memory linked to
Every coffee cup,
Every TV program,
Every inch of air I breathe.
There's no break from you,
You've besmirched my environment.
March 18, 2005
Suge
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Plethora of you
Plethora of you
