i think i got it. my premordiality. all the pieces of the puzzles are starting to fit into place, you see. my race. my face. my times. these lines i keep writing. i got TO keep fighting. i got TO keep fighting.
grow my hair like samson till it reach moon. never groomed, roaming the earth with no mirror. (my looks will eventually wither.)you see, i need not a spouse, nor a house. judging me. so sick of society. society keeps trying me. and making me feel inferior. but as shure as there is a heaven, and all the missspellings (i make in my esse), i'm gonna find a way. to just be free.
to just be free
to just be free
no more society judging me
to just be free
to just be free
no more society judging me
TO JUST BE FREE
TO JUST BE FREE
NO MORE SOCIETY JUDGING ME
TO JUST BE FREE!
TO JUST BE FREE!!
NO MORE SOCIETY!!!
hey! Hey! no more competitions. on whose better. it's all the differences that makes us similar. all the tiny little things we do. like growing my fro. you growing your money tree. i'm gonna find a way for us. to just be free.
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2 comments:
OH BOY, Icould use a chalupa right about now.
get a haircut, u hippie
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