here i am/
trapped on paper/
im trying to be an emotional negotiator/
one day/
i wish to escape/
become notes and bars/
have people relate/
be played in cars/
dont mistake me/
as another casuality/
i hope to fly free/
somplace where i can breathe/
be put on microphone/
i know im not the only one/
i know im not alone/
have myself recorded as a track/
be put on cd/
shoved into a backpack/
listened to by young and old/
i want to be with the youth till they grow old/
and that my sound will always have its hold/
it remains simple/
why when it rains/
you listen triple/
and it pains me/
to plainly put/
im only on paper/
i dont even have a hook/
my life span is short/
i dont plan to be long/
it comes to the heart more/
because im a song/
i hope i can comfort when times are hard/
i hope i can cheer up and keep you captivated with the stars/
from the deepest pockets of millionares/
to the shallowest depths of everyday worries and cares/
i just hope to have people sing me/
and bring me/ into their lives/
stop all the yelling, tears and cries/
i know this seems more like poetry/
because it is/
i call it flowetry/
im only the life of a song/
mostly crumpled/
few live on/
i dont wish to be commercially played/
i only want to remain in your head for 1 day/

think acoustic thugs mansion

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