/Twenty minutes till the show, pulling hard on this smoke/ Funny see the roads where they lead and where you go/Sometimes I wish my brother would let go and watch me flow/ I wonder if he'd smile, wanna stop me, say it's dope/ I'm Dylan in my dreams, singing like a rolling stone/ Harmonica a wailin', death is screaming hold the phone/ To me that redefines the definition of shalom/ Chaos that feels controlled, in a moment all your own/ I wanna die on a soapbox, screaming that they know not/ Curmudgeon as an old pot boiling on a stove top/ I just wanna say my piece, bout how I'm never gonna find no peace/ Whether, weed, women, or speed, never be release that I'm gon' need/ Like death that greets your mother after years you seen her suffer/ The calm that washes over, shed a tear, and say you love her/ All the time you spent to be her peace, be her comfort/ It kills to see her go, but even more to see her suffer/

/We all fall short but some of us don't recover/

/Then our wings begin to wilt, thoughts of flying take us under/

/Think of what we were,then take on pity as a lover/

/...Angels With Dirty Faces



/ Like my uncle after money, after prison, he had nothing/ Came out a decade later and he smoked a piece of something/ Robbed of piece of mind, took that stimulant to hug him/ Guess that fact he didn't snitch, didn't mean that peace was coming/ Like my father's mother, who carved a life up out her beauty/ Everybody used to fawn, tell her she should be in movies/ Her vanity was peace, reassurance of her status/ A house, a couple sons, and a husband, she was magic/ Till she discovered he was cheating, the seams were now un-weaving/ That anger mixed with hurt, fueled a way for her to even/ So one Sunday after service, she confronts him in the car/ Reaches in the dash, as he sits and stares in awe/ She pulls a pistol out, tears well and start to fall/ Looks him in the eye and then she fires below her heart/ As if to say, in a most vindictive way, you took my peace of mind, but you'll never take my heart/