Reserved Skepticism (Violin by Jessy Greene)

Reserved Skepticism My motto is...bottle this energy quick Moderately slick, hits like a lottery pick You gotta be thick-skinned when you fall for the trick Appalling and sick, something I could fix with a brick Building blocks, then stop, watch the passersbys The mask disguise, matching when they plaster lies He has survived, but never got to cash the prize I slashed the price, still they got the last surprise Cast your eyes upon the sky, SEE HOW HIGH We can fly, now sound your war-cry Sure I would like to get my fair shot I care a lot about the way I share the plot This is NOT a drama on a modern run I pondered some, discovered, the genre’s none Wander an run in the field of life under the sun White numb, eyes wider than the sight of a...gun Reserved Skepticism Reserved Skepticism Reserved Skepticism Reserved Skepticism Reserved judgment until I get more intel Been failed viewing my life through a thin veil Sin sells, pawns get lead like pencils Hence, hell’s on earth, well, it all makes sense now Since child-HOOD I was always a pen pal Write down my thoughts, sign my name, then send out Write back, or match up words to a tight track Sidetracked trying to get someone his life back White-Black, I’m talking bout me, that’s a ripe fact Pipe packed, give relief like a ice pack Or a nice stack of wax with the right tracks Escape reality, but it soon slips right back I sat in the same place when I wrote that Write rap, hope someone might quote that So sad how art is a ends to means A end to dreams, unless your will intervenes He’s a skeptic, also things easily accepted A mastered method, a way to my expand my efforts Hands pull levers, thought pull plans together Advance and tether my dreams, til they answer better A canceled letter of intent, change of weather Strange endeavor, the kind of thing that brings the pressure Kings and treasure, philosophers with dreams to measure Scenes of desserts, lost, we NEED a exit Beaded necklace, I bought down beneath Texas These be extras, something to increase the texture Take me naked, vulnerable, I keep sacred I keepsake it, I keep patient, man, for pete’s sake I would never fake it, make it more clear to your ear Here’s a better statement You’ll be waiting forever for my replacement I’m one of one, for better or worse get it done Hit and run, home-base under the hidden sun