The Game
its about the different aspects of life.
Words to say,
In a regular way,
Are often the same,
As the poetry game.
Chords to be strung,
And classically sung,
Reflect to no end,
An intolerable blend.
Fights are won,
In a randomly swung,
Blatant decipher,
Not of smokeless fire.
A heart in smolder,
Burns the beholder,
Til interest is invest,
The interest wont rest.
Well I guess its in the way,
The boys in the band play.
Or is it in the style,
You cross your legs and smile.
Oh, to know is alluring,
But to understand would be boring!
In a regular way,
Are often the same,
As the poetry game.
Chords to be strung,
And classically sung,
Reflect to no end,
An intolerable blend.
Fights are won,
In a randomly swung,
Blatant decipher,
Not of smokeless fire.
A heart in smolder,
Burns the beholder,
Til interest is invest,
The interest wont rest.
Well I guess its in the way,
The boys in the band play.
Or is it in the style,
You cross your legs and smile.
Oh, to know is alluring,
But to understand would be boring!
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