pull the chords, yeah, the musical kind
request more, no, you'll never ever find
the same endeavor's mind, as we combined
the warning signs signalling our defeat
and the beat goes on, mezmerizingly neat
as the treat is gone, families speak leet
on weak seats, but they support our reps
take a few steps backwords, slowly adept
figuring out that of which you are bereft
petty theft, overshadowed by bad grammar
Majolnir inspires, so fly high the banner
pluck strings lovingly w/the Sacred hammer
out span her, and let the notes fly free
from sky to sea, echoing things that may be
for the you and the me, everything between
proceeds to lean, in the need of support
supplement music of life in double cohorts
with no forts to protect us from retorts
of imagination's contort, don't let it admire
or aspire to light fires on night wires
for the foundation rolls on over-tight tires
blight squires attempt to sever the strings
attack the moral things, riding on the wings
of time's eternity, these proverbial things
all rest on the weak foundation of strings

everything may trip and fall, but you must persevere
hear humanity's call, you leave, I will still be here
serve to sever my ear, Van Gogh understood the tips
find a balance in your life as the words leave my lips
foundations aren't strong, everthing may fall and trip

__________________
Life isn't a bitch...
she's just sick of being personified -Sage Francis