Текст песни Duct Tape for Dumpty - 137

I'd rather be a wallflower at a sex club
Than another soul hooked on consumption
Prefer production, whenever possible
Though I do understand that even flower lets some sun in

More than timbre, speed, or nice voice to be a master
Pretty sure my sermon could put pastor out to pasture
Duct tape for Dumpty, helping avoid disaster
'Cause all the king's men couldn't find the answer

Keeping lines going as long as I wanna I'm undeterred by the presence of a natural caesura
But when
Time comes
To break lines
To segments
I embrace
Enjambments
Want audience
I write for descendants
Writing for transcendence

From, young and promising
To, old and menacing

Starve, in a land of luxury
All, by being in wrong feast's attendance

I am relegated to a wince in many's memory
But other's sentiment is feeble way to base my sanity
So when I yearn to change what comes not readily
I use that energy on mastering my innate tendencies

I feel
Failures are bullet points in future documentary
Maybe that's why He decided I would have affinity
I've ability to stay dry, midst humidity
And in accordance, still, know my fallibility

And, doctor, said that I caught consumption
Expected, for those with my gumption
For bright stars burn hot and quickly
But self-knowledge might slow declension

I don't have role models
Rather have admired virtues

The smile I wear is genuine
But underpinned by drum and fife

Same slew we galumph through
Poets known by how they view shoes

Dark comes sooner in this season
Better for the night life

Dawdle with degenerates and wonder why your pay slow
Rather than going to hunt a peso
Kingdom predicated on abundance of your brio
Opportunities are often best caught by lasso

I don't miss others
Hope they're safe and where they want to be
Nor run from my strife
Jump I toward it like a wallaby

It's truly an anomaly
Using vapidity, serenity, and misery
To fuel my artistry proficiently

Payment
Money bought me peace of mind
And only piece of mine got spent on
Raiment
Took more than caprice to find
Paid a pricey fine
For my present arrangement
Time and sanity sacrificed
But I was prepared
For craft's arraignment
Wouldn't dare forsake the art I make
Worth each ailment