It’s a destiny journey; no energy to force the ride near the finish line
the rocky street is evil as his polish mind accelerates as a skittish time
weather laughs as a divorce letter, tearing as peppers and eyes add together
as he walks on his mistakes as Jesus on the water, the trees hug each other
It is his prospect to reflect about his future which will never be complex
His car cries hard for assistance as broken legs patient, as if it’s a context
As it rapidly over takes the gas station as snapping the fingers, smoke emerges
All the tools are thirsty as a pure desert, dry as woods as it nose reverses
Should he keep up the speed as many obstacles tackle his voyage like a spear
It’s a once in a life time question to answer, as his attention rages with fear
His dark memory population attack his heavy head, earning no freedom
Burrowing, searching for a better life, trying to escape his burning kingdom
he might doubt as thoughts feel like breaking out of his mind as cons, their find no way out
Every passages are armed like an army, sturdy to stop airs, locked like the gray cloud
He stays proud but not figuring out why he wants to go back to the starting line
After this Hard time, what does he have apart crimes? Nothing but a white star in mind
Blank as the road is cold under his flesh as a fever skin; sweating like wet dreams
its extreme on the scene as he asks his conscience why he is still breathing, yet screams
demolish his throat as Tyson sleeps in the ring, weak to fight back with his last brain
He tries to blast again but was told why are you riding on the fast lane
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