Ink Blot Blues: Face the Music
haunting vocals consume me, taunting my nature
flaunting choke holds to bruise me, wanting a favor
she whispers sweet rhythms composed in deep flavor
the savior of souls, she blew me a melodic kiss
an erotic gift of mellow tones blown in a chaotic midst
where warring heads & bloodied fists collide in stride..
..in a sort of jukebox pride, & the prize fighter is tried
& convicted of being punch drunk in public places
so I space out on melodies whaled in open spaces
a street corner musician jailed forever behind bars
I bathe in the sinful waters of harmony & deep scars
lost in a saxophone oasis, where the gift of music..
.................................................. ..................tenderly awakes us!
Ink Blot Blues: Having Twins
When I heard it, my mind was converted
from the lifestyle I live to a virgin
need to change my ways from day to day
be nice to my wife, try to cage my rage
cuz i smoke a half a day to mask the pain
and deal with the shit that falls like acid rain
plus if thats the case, I gotta provide now
somebody tell my fun personality to die now
when u see your kin thru sound, that's kinda it
time to quit when the doc says
"Congratulations, You're havin twins"
Ink Blot Blues: Violent Cries
violence is inside my eyelids
violent cries entice my mindlessness
i cant find the bliss to try to escape though
i need a scapegoat to take hold a time like this
i've beaten 'n killed seekin for thrills of better means
destroyin boys n girls in a world of methamphetamines
s'got me runnin from my past hopin to escape my future
cutting off the water to the seeded faith of users
snakes and losers... a sadistic life that spells fatal
cause there isnt any room in heaven for a hells angel
Ink Blot Blues: The Progression of Me
An image so silent, telling a story so vibrant
How pain and strife led to flashes of violence
Starts with an image of weakness...
...the reason
The transition to power is seamless
Arms at a side, barron of pride
Swell after dedication at nights
He lives for the fights, leaving them sore
Bruises and scars are like medals he wore
With his hands raised... he drew endless praise...
Wait...
On this page...
Could it be??? What I have perceived
Is really.. the progression of me?