I was born broken
Learning bit by bit how the world will fail
Beyond my comprehension at forty two
I wonder how malevolence still enthralls me,
Like a child breathing his last breath
as a soldier trying to forget
maybe the mindless who never forgot
42 the answer no one ever regrets
Dreaming of a simple minded child playing in the snow
where the mud running thru his hands is just a simple, simple show
All your taught and expect is a loving family, Farther, mother and the kids they had
out of spite, they\'re are demons in all our paths 42 to of them to be exact
The father you adored, the brother who had your back
even your mother who caressed u gently in the psych ward,
What a gentle breath
Where is the petulance, the hatred, the will to call it quits?
I am sure at forty-two it has always been there calling out to us
as the willing kid in church to bear the cross, which none of the believers ever did.
All I wanted was to live this, a dream, oh you silly simple child
Broken,on a pedestal.
Abused in front an adoring crowd.
Tortured with infamy.
In your anonymity you became being a star.
With 42 edges and each of those bearing your scars.