MESSY ROOM By Tom Jensen
The smoke from my cigarette encases me like a tomb
As the aura of my bitterness becomes happier with gloom
Don't you fret but can't you sense the oncoming distress?
When you live inside your mind because this world is a mess
Yes, there is danger out on the street
Faces of anger for you to meet
And some even stranger and others you can't see
The chosen ones that always were
Along with those that'll never be
What we have found are many faces walking
While looking down at the ground
Hear the echoing of malicious words
The first time they were ever heard
See the small hands that have grown
And the fists that have been thrown
Traversing the uneven roads that we have traveled
While watching the moral fabric that's unraveled
When a sweaty palm fuses with cold steel
A hand extends but does not feel
A pokered-face turns the tables after a bad deal
As fantasy vengeance has now become real
Pent-up aggression can no longer be concealed
Aim is taken and fate is sealed
Two eyes full of blood are suddenly revealed
As fantasy vengeance has now become real
Don't you fret but can't you sense the oncoming distress?
When you live inside your mind because this world is a mess