I know not of nothing
Of something called pain,
Called brain tumor, called
Every rumor, persecuted
Names, homes in flames,
Young and well, alive to
Heal—staying real you live
In me, and life is a tragedy!
I know not of nothing
Of something called pain,
Called brain tumor, called
Every rumor, persecuted
Names, homes in flames,
Young and well, alive to
Heal—staying real you live
In me, and life is a tragedy!
THE RUCKUS JOURNAL 