Respect dead people and never sleep with them
Don't expect call backs from the dead
Smoking, drinking and deceased in trunks of cars
Are bad habits and probably against the law in Alabama
It is impolite to shoot dead people out of canons
Or drop them from airplanes way up high at midnight
Though they have no fear of flight or need of parachutes
The activities are rude so just don't do it
Dead people belong in cemeteries or in urns
Not meant to be refrigerated in home appliances
Or kept next to the milk and cheese for freshness
They are not good company but make great listeners
Carpool lanes move faster with more bodies in the car
When stopped for speeding dead people come in handy
Place one of them in the driver's seat to get the fine
They don't mind screaming cops or ticketing
Let them rest in peace with or without a seatbelt on
The safest place on Earth to sleep is in the cemetery
Dead people will never hurt you because they are dead
Fear the living because they are alive and kicking heads
Taken by love and lost due to No action. Although seeing is believing there is No satisfaction.
Time is ticketing and love is no longer old fashion
This pain, this urge to love SOMEONE who don't want love.
Blessed AND still Seeking for all the wrong attention.
Lies brought to light, an still manage to not pay attention.
Mind racing, head 3 dimension. Sounds of peers and mother nature saying pay attention.
I cant... I JUST CANT I really cant do it.
Putting time and attention into 1 soul 1 Body to then feel so stupid.
This is not LOVE, LOVE DOESNT DO THIS!!! IT DOESNT FEEL PAINFUL.
Down and clueless no more Please No more.
If love shall come let it come for eternity.
This passion for love has become the end of Me.
Miles far from,
The ticketing toll,
Unmentioned to some,
Lingering soul,
Pushing on,
The roads are made,
The breaking dawn,
Streaks vaguely fade,
Posted in place,
Thriving success,
Becoming a face,
Cleaning up the mess.
People rise,
Creatures scatter,
Tongues of cries,
Memories of laughter,
Dismantled letter,
Ripple effect,
Faults setter,
The headers collect.
tick. . . tick. . talk the time today
busy a great gather of
basketed flowers
that might move us towards
great outlawed-metered parked cars
ticketing themselves
and twist. . . twist your fire-hydrant wrist
while the streets look the other way
simple lack-luster
awaits your perceptive 50’s point of view
but it’s all the daughters that decide
off which part of concrete to part with
and wake up
in which car to ride in
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