Like Paper In The Wind
By: Tyler Ross
Its funny how you say it,
like you have my back,
but when its time to be a friend
there’s just too much slack.
When trying to bridge this gap,
it becomes too much work.
I can’t seem to find the balance
limboing between the surface and the murk.
It drives me berserk
walking this constant one-way street.
Basic expectations become a luxury
when phoniness is a broken record on repeat.
I hate feeling like a freak.
A fiend yearning for a normal fix.
Where are the genuine people at
who want real friendships?
C’mon, let’s take a trip
down memory lane.
You know that place
where your type run this fucked up game?
You’re all the same,
but that’s been said before.
I won’t see any positive results
knocking at your door.
Maybe it’s a talk we’ve been putting off.
I can’t dodge anymore of your toxic molotovs.
A quick rip from the table cloth.
Can you see how much still remains?
For me, not enough.
I’m out and once your smoke clears
you won’t find me lingering about.
Won’t be hurting myself anymore
looking in mirrors.
Cheers!
Don’t let your shitty behavior hit you on the way to hell.
Respect is give and take,
can't you tell?
Maybe I’ll finally stop putting quarters in LA’s friendship well.
I don’t want to attract any more phonies to my nice.
Next time you cross me and fuck with my time.
Think twice.
No more questionable ties.
Word to the fucking wise.
Goodbye.
