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BE BOP A LOOB BOP, DON'T BECOME A JUNKIE

no matter how fast i rock and roll
it don't matter none how soaked i am in soul
no matter how many things of value i stole
raising holy hell has long been my goal

outunning the rain has a wrethed reward
sleeping with three dogs at night i couldn't afford
i was left to fight with warmth next to a mangy mole
and as i said, raising holy hell has long been my goal

when i bid the dearies out the door i feel their sorrow
but what was worse is when the man says "ain't got no dope 'til tomorrow"
when he says that and you look for my heart look all around
nay, just aim your eyes at the filthy spit laden ground

i'm dancing as fast as the beat will propel my feet
but there are too many days a junkie fights defeat
no laughter be heard in rooms where junkies gather
and given the option between death and breath it's dying i'd rather

no mattar how i rock and roll, stay on the stroll or the things i stole
i can't even recall having a pious and un-selfish goal
this living on the street is as old as living on the dole
and with temerity time and tepid tears have all taken their toll
 (c) 2011 ....Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~

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