untitled as of now

[6what131]

flow may read off a little but it flows tight to the beat.

critisism welcome and appreciated

a sober mind is a very dangerous thought/ and of corse mine is rarley sober, its somewhere in the mist of confusion lost/ and i hope i can find it, thats where most of my times spent/ and when it stumbles across me i will try to redefined it/ attempted to brush up on my act, but pointing fingers laught at my mid-set/ but still dont beleive in boundaries, i write on paper that is lineless/ despite this, i still here the chants of alcoholic../ and thats fine with me if thats what you choose to call it/ cause you opinions and my beliefs, down the road somewhere off-set/ to me it my machete helping me navigate the brush of the forrest/ on my path to enlightenment, i found a tree with a rope tied to it/ my eyes lite in the silence, the soarness from my milage/ my search now over, i finally found out where my mind went/ and to my suprise, it must have liquified/ cause it now drip dryed, hanging from a clothes line/ magnified ten times/ and now falls out with tears of my eyes.

second verse coming soon

hundred yard stares downfield sippin zinfandel

[6what131]

corrections

pointing fingers laught at my mind-set

it must have liquified in time

now falls out with the tears of my eyes.