• a.p. duvall

While Thinking of the World

She wants love but she spells it wrong

in the letters she sends to the setting sun

He wants power and to know its aftertaste

All his love has quickly gone to waste

And neither one of them ever bothers

With a thought to mother or father

Abused beyond the use

and running by and living is the hardest way to die.

Third generation's skin stained by grease

Running off the sober mountain of release

Down down down off the cliffs and over

Where time and hell met and swapped cover

Jumping nature and mugging the cities

People all around always saying ‘give me’

Where they have no sense of right or time and living is the hardest way to die

Stop I didn’t say it

Stop I didn’t say it

Stop I didn’t say it out loud

Not from the crown

not from the crowd

Stop I never said it out loud

A piece of bubblegum chewed and blown

Popped in the crevice that the man called home

Kill the scene and stop the play that’s going on

The actors know the lines they know them all wrong

And stop the musicians playing over our heads

they’ll sell more records when they’re dead

Why act hurt when you hear the well known lie

Cause living is the hardest way to die.

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