Dead things for the rearrange
Guns with bullets
Sophomore mullets
Backlash of a Tuesday
Nothing is discounted
Maroon is champion
Lottery numbers now waste
Away, what good will money be
Without wisdom?
Ceiling stares for the future fears
Of bad news, bad news in the media
Memories fade away,
College is costing nothing
But knowledge has been everything
To know you is to love You,
I am a burning wicker in the wind
I am a fearful man with everything to
Lose, I am in the wilderness with You
Pain is never plain until the snow comes
Until frozen hearts become one,
I am cold before all becomes to cold
To grow old,
Oil is burning, time is running out
Wisdom is a margin
Love is a chagrin of a mess
For those that want to be dismissed
The sun shines anew on this freeway
To find You,
These are all just thoughts today,
What will life be tomorrow?
Will the night weigh heavy on me,
Or will I embrace mercy,
For that seems to be the only thing
To carry me through
THE RUCKUS JOURNAL 