I like knowing where I'm at,I appreciate the circumference of a tailspin gone flat.
I fidget and fawn,
Like a stealthy pawn,
Calculating nothing,
But the moves I've got wrong.
This tree is made for hanging,
A noose around it's neck,
Left swinging in the wind,
On this beautiful day, a-wreck.
I pulsate, I contemplate
I seize the moment fast,
Those old experiences of what has been done,
Are cause to say "at last" !
That tree, to me
Is like the burning bush
Begging me to leave behind,
Let go of
The swine within, and it's grotesque push.
Left carved without a spine.
Do you have the guts, the balls to hang himself?
Can you leave him here, with all his wealth,
Roasting out to dry,
An Apple in his mouth and carrots in his eye.
It's now or never, get sworded up
Strength is in the redeemer,
Requiring a move, abrupt.
But you won't, will you
You'll even have mercy for the wicked shrew
You'll let him perpetuate,
Until you choose.
Pull the cord on that noose.
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