This is the first song that I put together for my independent study. It's about how freakin' busy I was at that time. Just how busy I was would explain why I only finished this three weeks into the final quarter.
The china is dirty, where dinner once stood.
A little bit of water should do it some good.
The cylinder in the corner, where waste is placed,
Is filled beyond the brim and, in fact, to my face.
The volume of the grass, it dares to astound,
And pollutants need to be sucked from the ground.
Out in the distance, I hear the hounds.
God, do they make a helluva lot of sounds.
Someone could probably fix all of this,
And on me doing so her majesty insists.
These mounds of papyrus sit here before me
Like trees in a forest that's windy and stormy.
They await a fluid to quench their thirst
In spite of the fact that the soil is cursed.
Somewhere within � a set of weights;
The evident keys to the platinum gates.
I open them up, and what can I claim
But yet another forest with more of the same.
I guess I'll just keep truckin' along,
Biding my time and singing my song.
interlude
Just when I think I've dug to the pipes,
Turns out, 'tis but a branch, which gives me the gripes.
It's like how the government is run by the right;
An ongoing problem, with no end in sight.
I could just turn and look the other way,
But I always get drawn back to the melee.
It sticks to me like gum to my shoes
Leaving me no ability to choose.
I must face what lies ahead...
Before I lay myself down in bed.
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