MLS - Punch Card

Saint · 03-21-2024, 08:45 PM

UPN 2011

Mr Long Story

You can tell when I'm damaged; dull dents in the armour
No real stab in the back when it bends under collar
Made amends with the fatherly figures who disappeared
And I've made up for those missing years dismissing here
This christmas year, I still won't believe
But I'm no longer opposed to those who need the rosary to achieve
It's supposedly awe-striking, resting your head on god's shoulder
But I'm older..more mature I guess, even if that makes my time colder
Bold to approach, I've always been...a lonely grin and partly cloudy
They can do the holy part without me; I'm my own only son and my bible rhymes
See
Times is hard. Them's the brakes. You do what you can and make mistakes.
Sometimes you're sad. Sometimes it's great. Most of the time it's a blend of frames.
But I eat what the waiter brings and don't let the endings fray
Tight knit group of vices, friends, and love attached to my mending plate
So it's you and I. face to face. And all you can talk is suicide.
That's a stupid lie. You're just tempting fate. Mom cried wolf and left the truth denied.
You decide. I've always left the blade's hilt in the palm of your hands
Used to pride myself on your morbid life but at this point I just want you to understand.
The world can't love you if you don't show it how to
You can't make the room for the warmth if it's piled up with hard times
The world won't make love to someone who breaks it with hatred
The world isn't your saviour. You are. So stop painting clouds with dark lines
And through the receiver you cry, and you try, and then you blame life
You blame the fact that it happened. And that it was never explained right
I'm young, mom. A young man. Wise for my years, but I strain eyes
To find the magic words and help you when you want to go and stain knives
You're supposed to be adult. You told me to grow up constantly
I did. Now I feel old when we talk. Much much older then I'd ever want to be.
I'm not angry. I don't resent you. And hell knows I know what you've been through.
You've blabbed your life aloud and made damn sure I had my paper and pencil
But I'm trying to motivate, screaming let go of hate over the tape you replay
Not every day HAS to be ducking D-Day
So be safe. For the love of it all, go find yourself. Go walk it out.
Or spend your time on the shelf. I can't make that choice. I'm clocking out

03-21-2024, 08:45 PM	#1
Saint Scream Join Date: Jun 2015 Posts: 3,227 Battle Record: 63-35 Accomplishments - 50 Wins Champed - BA Picture Roast - Battle Royale Tournament - NBL Pic Roast - Netcees Battle League - NBL Season 11 - HoT Roast - BAL Roast - Tag Team Tourney - NBL Barcotic Cypher - SOL Pic Roast - BA Tag - XXXtentacion Roast - 1-2 LR Champ Rep Power: 22535865	MLS - Punch Card UPN 2011 Mr Long Story You can tell when I'm damaged; dull dents in the armour No real stab in the back when it bends under collar Made amends with the fatherly figures who disappeared And I've made up for those missing years dismissing here This christmas year, I still won't believe But I'm no longer opposed to those who need the rosary to achieve It's supposedly awe-striking, resting your head on god's shoulder But I'm older..more mature I guess, even if that makes my time colder Bold to approach, I've always been...a lonely grin and partly cloudy They can do the holy part without me; I'm my own only son and my bible rhymes See Times is hard. Them's the brakes. You do what you can and make mistakes. Sometimes you're sad. Sometimes it's great. Most of the time it's a blend of frames. But I eat what the waiter brings and don't let the endings fray Tight knit group of vices, friends, and love attached to my mending plate So it's you and I. face to face. And all you can talk is suicide. That's a stupid lie. You're just tempting fate. Mom cried wolf and left the truth denied. You decide. I've always left the blade's hilt in the palm of your hands Used to pride myself on your morbid life but at this point I just want you to understand. The world can't love you if you don't show it how to You can't make the room for the warmth if it's piled up with hard times The world won't make love to someone who breaks it with hatred The world isn't your saviour. You are. So stop painting clouds with dark lines And through the receiver you cry, and you try, and then you blame life You blame the fact that it happened. And that it was never explained right I'm young, mom. A young man. Wise for my years, but I strain eyes To find the magic words and help you when you want to go and stain knives You're supposed to be adult. You told me to grow up constantly I did. Now I feel old when we talk. Much much older then I'd ever want to be. I'm not angry. I don't resent you. And hell knows I know what you've been through. You've blabbed your life aloud and made damn sure I had my paper and pencil But I'm trying to motivate, screaming let go of hate over the tape you replay Not every day HAS to be ducking D-Day So be safe. For the love of it all, go find yourself. Go walk it out. Or spend your time on the shelf. I can't make that choice. I'm clocking out __________________