Too Personal

Not to sound so personal, so hard to speak out of frozen cold, but from old to young- framed to freed... From bossed to doodled, to cop-land inside my noodle, call me into the brewery- set sights on chewing me, because time is my only eulogy, and your prank is not doing things. Banging isn't what's new to me, and you are not a tool to bring, though you're not much weight- so I can still sing, I am just doing things, you keep the hate as you're schooling me, because in one more age we will truly breathe, ...One more phone call and you are suing things- such as a bird with ugly wings, the earth isn't turned to the burning its leafs, and this wage I am paid isn't buying jewelry, like lazy Lizardry, I wiggle at the spilling of things, eye ball when I ruin the breeze- in the aisle with a basket and some briefs.