I don't want to become some writer who's one dimensional,
Or shoot myself in the foot like the gun's invincible,
I know, to the rest of you, this may be unconventional,
Idea after idea, popping in my head but none sensible,
I know it seems like, just to fuckin survive the hoard,
I've jumped off the deep end, straight off the diving board,
I've tried to tip toe in the cold water of the deep end,
But I've dove head first in the shallow water, and seeped in,
Unbridled doubt, I know it seems all I do is bitch and moan,
But they say you reap what you sew, every stitch I've sewn,
And a part of me is tall, the other feels small, which has grown,
And if I fall, everybody has left me so each foot trips alone,
If I ask you, have I grown in body, or grown in spirit,
Did you study me as a person, or was I shown in lyric,
I'm sick of, one for the moneys and once and for alls,
I'll tell, everyone of you if a battle they want and if war calls,
I have to get a grip, or slip on the slippery slope,
Set the world on fire, slip out on the trickery rope,
The fire escape, is a lie with less shape,
I give this formless world shape, set to fall on the slippery slope,
I don't know where this road goes, I know its less traveled,
Will I be a pawn in the game, nights of being chess battled,
But I'm never shook, by a clever rook, I'm at best rattled,
I just want to go out, dying swiftly in a blaze of glory,
Write all my memoirs in a journal, hope it saves my story,
And as I stair at my ocean, I just see waves of gory,
Filled depressing tales, that crash and just land in water,
I refuse to just be a fuckin cannon's cannon fodder,
As I sit in church, I wonder why's there stains in the glass,
Wondering, to this world, will I just be a pain in the ass,
Askin God, when did my balls start changin to brass,
There's other questions, but I want to refrain to ask,
The only thing I worried about, was following my friends feet,
Never once worrying, about coming up with ends meet,
He wears red chucks, football pads that demons wear,
And the opposite side of the ball has left, screamin scared,
I have to get a grip, or slip on the slippery slope,
Set the world on fire, slip out on the trickery rope,
The fire escape, is a lie with less shape,
I give this formless world shape, set to fall on the slippery slope,
And I was left scared just like them, even in practice,
But he hung up his cleats, his spikes, like leavin his cactus,
He was a spine cracker, fuck being just a line backer,
Now I get up late, cause I don't even want to think Sunrise,
Cause since that day, I never have had such stunned eyes,
So I stair at them every morning, making sure not one cries,
And then I started to slip down the slope again,
Seeing the Devil everyday, trying to cope with sin,
And I wonder, if I talked to God, what would I try an' say,
Would I go to heaven or burn in hell, if I should die today,
Cause I know he's saying, Enough of the questions,
I should practice praying, knowing I'm rough with the confession,
And maybe I want to go to hell, I'm sick of each frozen stair,
If he gave me a choice, I wonder if I would of chosen fair,
Now I know a rose stem's flair, only grows when scared,
I'm forced to climb the slope, make sure every rhyme is dope,
I have to get a grip, or slip on the slippery slope,
Set the world on fire, slip out on the trickery rope,
The fire escape, is a lie with less shape,
I give this formless world shape, set to fall on the slippery slope,