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I tried to tell you—the grass is always greener
There is no other side—you can’t be an in-betweener
Scrub away the markings it won’t get any cleaner
So keep sitting there like you’ve been hit with a beaner
No we’re not impressed by much
You think we’re out of touch
But the real joke—is—on—you
Even we haven’t heard it all
Waiting for the other shoe to fall
But there’s nothing—left—to—do……

I tried to give you—a leg-up on tomorrow
Show you the bright side so you could swat away the sorrow
That was the take away so you don’t have to beg steal or bowwor
No we’re not impressed by much
You think you have the midas touch
But the real joke—is—on—you
The winds that fills your sails
Will leave you stranded when it fails
Gonna leave you holding that—other—shoe…..

I tried to be there—so you’d have something to lean on
I didn’t understand—why you were already gone

© 8/27/15 Ian Shires

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Timetrvlr (22)

I'm just the guy who spent the time to figure out how to make all this what it is. Whatever that is.