Total 2am KT Drive

You're not going to write me in your shoes.
You're not going to write me in your big shoes.
You haven't the language,
Command o' da English,
the poetry potion and the motion of moon.

You're not going to find me in your heart.
You're locked in your own cage so don't start.
Your loaded with man things,
contempory life things,
not things in the 60's or the things that I love.

Stab at the ivory with fingers of one, you're just a
man child (boy child) man child (boy child)
Scrawl on the paper with your zeroes and ones, you little
boy child (man child) boy child (man child)
Just like me.

You can't change a tiger to a girl's goal.
You won't find me staring from your stone soul.
With family history,
a scent of a mystery,
an aristo-cracy with a feminine air.

You'll never exceed me so don't try.
Your manner is jagged like a old lie.
You haven't a notion,
or any emotion,
you haven't the mind, the signs or even a friend.

Stab at the ivory with fingers of one, you're just a
man child (boy child) man child (boy child)
Scrawl on the paper with your zeroes and ones, you little
boy child (man child) boy child (man child)
Just like me.

Your killing yourself you know my old friend.
A race with your dreams has only one end.
You're so pessimistic,
you cannot supress it,
just lie back and do it or just wait one more day.

Poke at the plastic with fingers of one, you're just a
man child (boy child) man child (boy child)
Scrawl on the paper with your zeroes and ones, you little
boy child (man child) boy child (man child)

You'll never sound like me.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.