i've binned it

random thought's at a keyboard

Yea i may have sinned
But i moved on and binned the lot
Looked at what i've got and looked up
Thanked the lord that i didn't fall on my own sword

Now i say i'm sitting around bored
Won't get off my ass
And achieve the class i've always wanted
I sometimes share my rhyme's on facebook
But they overlook me
Don't see me as a writer
When that's what feels right

I've got to lock on my sight
Put the work in move up and through the pages
I've been writing for ages
I should be a ghost writer
So real famous people can print it off and learn it like a script
I know im hip just a bit dark

But it's like comparing me to a dog that doesn't bark
I'm here for the lark and the power
I want to be writing by the hour
I'd have albums done more in a day than bum's asking for dollars
Word for word we just begging to be heard
It's not absorb

The people at the bottom want it more than those at the top
Let's harvest the crop and see who grow's back to be top of the crop