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Array
(
[sid] => 1661
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Lame
[time] => 2002-08-03 10:03:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => yes i have a little bit of something left
you never know what's going to happen next what's to expect when my mouth is a wreck can't live second best in grande auto theft at least that's what it seems like i think but i'm not supposed to think or speak or blink just do what is best at the bottom of a drink sell in sell out at every damnable comedy wink i hate the suppositions put in my positions can't talk in or walk in any old rendition constant conditioning of tame superstitions plastered on every magazine this week's edition it's making me mad even though it's a bit sad all the fun that i've had is turning out so bad and just like my dad this whole game is a fad that is making me mad and still looking so bad i played the game of what's my name it's not the same it's kind of lame i wrote the rhyme spent all my time paid for my crime but not this time some people wondering where in the world i went no mistake i took a break so all this could vent maybe all these words should just be heaven sent but the more i go on the more it seems i am bent way out of shape in and out of some proportion like a little part of me just had an abortion a twisted sick little hell raising contortion seems to be the only way i won't be a distortion so now i'm back up in your alley right here want me or not you won't be rid of me oh dear steer clear if it's me you don't want to hear you can't push me away when i'm coming near it's making my day even when it goes the wrong way i'm right here to stay no matter how me you play and when things i can't say i hope and i pray that my day will be made however it will play [comments] => 4 [counter] => 252 [topic] => 34 [informant] => Daniel [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => SongLyrics )
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