pentameter parameter
a moment in time
a rhythm a rhyme
no reason fer pleasin the ears r in season
i'm reelin and feelin so primed
the sun's beatin easy n
the wind's tryin to tease me
n the view's just lookin sublime
but the sublime is timeless
the reasons r rhymeless
n it all winds up bein a crime
so its a busted love in a moment of doubt
the dust settles slow n leaves me a drought
but its too much is all that i can't do without
so i'm sittin here doin my time
shut up
i put in my time
i put in my tears
i don't give a sh*t
i'm done with what's here
you're just blistering my head
you're blistering my head
while you stand there wondering
if you'd rather be dead
how do you say it
how is it done
do you really think
that you're the one
you're just blistering my head
you're blistering my head
standin there wondering
if you'd rather be dead
you think you're alone
we're both on the ledge
but you're the one
puttin me on edge
you're just blistering my head
you're blistering my head
while i stand here wondering
if i'd rather be dead
two songs, two posts in response
pentameter parameter(cool name)
fun song, I'd stick to one subject though, scratch that, you should stick to one subject, personify the rhythm itself. example comin'
me and this song ride
with it I lift, begin to fly
and I'll see a new kind of sky
well, that is pretty bad, but I'm not writing tonight, but the part I think you should play with is the end and post-middle
I don't follow my dreams, I just ask em' where they're going and catch up with them later.
-Mitch Hedburg
Did you see that!
shut up
I don't like this, nothing connects and it's very whiny(sorry for the bluntness, I'm in the strangest of moods)
an optimist would say that this song should be polished and hammered into place, but it's just a rant, and I got nothing from it
I don't follow my dreams, I just ask em' where they're going and catch up with them later.
-Mitch Hedburg
Did you see that!
the pattern wears thin when there's nothing contained within
i don't know if i'm draining or drawing in the rain
words don't do justice in a poem about nothingness
this feels like emptyness wearing a pretty dress
i keep trying harder and keep getting farther
from where it was i wanted to be
a story told and retold from long lost centuries
but none of this is what i wanted to say
so i'll let is slip from my fingers and let the wind carry it away
