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My Glass House Lyrics

While I sit alone in this room
I've got crates full of sorrow
Even more filled with shadows
That i fish out and ridicule
when i'm feeling lonely.
I'm lacking sense, but bound in a very
specific direction
It's phonomenal and unprecedented
It's a chip of the old block
and a step up the new ladder.

Mr. Scribe, I write to you
pen and penchant aimed to pour over a fool
left with no more rhymes
I'm poeticlly franchised.
I'm in charge for the day
in terminal wanderlust
I've excited my worst thoughts
exorcised what was lost
am i a bad seed sprouting up or am i not?

I'm sure what sad is,
but listless i'm not
my lists are never ending and
my emotions aren't store-bought
and tears, they either decieve or endure me
Mr. Scribe, I write to you
pen and penchant aimed to pour over a fool
left with no more rhymes
I'm poeticlly franchised.

I'm your little golden nugget collecting dust
Bored with my own stale and directed thoughts
In a place where so much life and loves abound
It's amazing how little tempts me
from my glass house.
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$wingin' Utter$ (2000)
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