Get It Out
Am I here to write? And to have an appetite? Do I look the way I sound? Am I lost deep underground? The wise don't say much, But have a gentle touch, And put their calm names in the sand. I follow with my eyes, The things that will surprise, As they move on past me. This could only be, Just my curiosity, And my desire to know. Give me a loud ring, Then let me think and sing, Because I need to get it out. Is it all for a reason? And worth one red cent? To say a colorful phrase, With so much eloquence? Now I must try, To let it multiply, And calculate the words, With my pen.
Copyright © 1999 - 2025
Steve Bujanow, Chris Theriault, Neo Cortex The Band, aka Neo Cortex
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