11/17/09
Now ever since I learned the color scheme
in the days of my pre-teens you taught me 'there'll be,
a solution for everything except death'
'character is in your hands son, then comes respect'
Mama, you always prepared me for the road ahead
and you know your boy is prone to reflect
but at times I'm confronted by challenges unmet
cuz life's been throwing me left and right hooks
I can't make it make sense even with the right books
paths ahead of me not sure which one I took
of saints and crooks I fear I might've mistook
looking at the path with the less light
even though I'm blessed right I'm shook,
too obsessive over depressed nights
unhealthy like pain from an abscess site
at times left to feign like an actress might
my dear Mama.
Feelin like a distressed knight but not dressed right
with this broad sword in hand but no real plans
and a righteous word but no mission
that childhood you gave me I'm missin
that kind of peace I was seekin through prayer and wishin
in other words the 'religion of submission'
but my prayers are like dissin cuz most of em are missing
from lack of clear vision like I'm far-sighted but not distant
I'm here sittin, feelin stricken by my thinkin
cooking in the kitchen, sickened by my condition
meanwhile people are climbing up positions
passing me by, earning provisions
cuz I'm on the road's shoulder
I can't catch up cuz you see I got this stone boulder
like everyone's burdens are dumped on my broad shoulders
my face suggests the remnants of harsh torture
narcissistic gone ballistic feelin hectic
self-reproached at times with a death wish
outside lookin plastic inside its drastic
the walking contradiction, seeking to give reparation to the nations
I'm seeing out-patients but inside I'm impatient
my soul's derision results in self-infliction, and the absence of wisdom
to better times got me reminiscing.
But with all this in the background
do I still make you proud?
Like when me and you go out and everybody shouts out a "Wow,
wish my son could be like yours" they say
"he's got that charm and good-boy sway"
and all I can say is "oy vey"
that's like dousing a wound with a soy sauce tray
its like what they say they parlay
and wager like im something major
calling for my attention like a surgeon's pager
Ma, I wanna do something major to make you proud
but right now I feel lamer than the crowd
knowing you want me to earn some titles like pronouns
but I'm stuck in a showdown between aspirations and abilities
spiritually, in-between taxation and tranquility
One day I'm gonna earn my pay
and with your prayers I'll find my way
as a man and hold the hand of a fair maiden
married with children, my dreams you contract em
by your conversations with the Lord who enacts em
the ultimatim - is to serve the both of you til adieu
no matter how much I give for your love
I can never make due
Mama, I will always and forever love you.
in the days of my pre-teens you taught me 'there'll be,
a solution for everything except death'
'character is in your hands son, then comes respect'
Mama, you always prepared me for the road ahead
and you know your boy is prone to reflect
but at times I'm confronted by challenges unmet
cuz life's been throwing me left and right hooks
I can't make it make sense even with the right books
paths ahead of me not sure which one I took
of saints and crooks I fear I might've mistook
looking at the path with the less light
even though I'm blessed right I'm shook,
too obsessive over depressed nights
unhealthy like pain from an abscess site
at times left to feign like an actress might
my dear Mama.
Feelin like a distressed knight but not dressed right
with this broad sword in hand but no real plans
and a righteous word but no mission
that childhood you gave me I'm missin
that kind of peace I was seekin through prayer and wishin
in other words the 'religion of submission'
but my prayers are like dissin cuz most of em are missing
from lack of clear vision like I'm far-sighted but not distant
I'm here sittin, feelin stricken by my thinkin
cooking in the kitchen, sickened by my condition
meanwhile people are climbing up positions
passing me by, earning provisions
cuz I'm on the road's shoulder
I can't catch up cuz you see I got this stone boulder
like everyone's burdens are dumped on my broad shoulders
my face suggests the remnants of harsh torture
narcissistic gone ballistic feelin hectic
self-reproached at times with a death wish
outside lookin plastic inside its drastic
the walking contradiction, seeking to give reparation to the nations
I'm seeing out-patients but inside I'm impatient
my soul's derision results in self-infliction, and the absence of wisdom
to better times got me reminiscing.
But with all this in the background
do I still make you proud?
Like when me and you go out and everybody shouts out a "Wow,
wish my son could be like yours" they say
"he's got that charm and good-boy sway"
and all I can say is "oy vey"
that's like dousing a wound with a soy sauce tray
its like what they say they parlay
and wager like im something major
calling for my attention like a surgeon's pager
Ma, I wanna do something major to make you proud
but right now I feel lamer than the crowd
knowing you want me to earn some titles like pronouns
but I'm stuck in a showdown between aspirations and abilities
spiritually, in-between taxation and tranquility
One day I'm gonna earn my pay
and with your prayers I'll find my way
as a man and hold the hand of a fair maiden
married with children, my dreams you contract em
by your conversations with the Lord who enacts em
the ultimatim - is to serve the both of you til adieu
no matter how much I give for your love
I can never make due
Mama, I will always and forever love you.
2 comments:
humari mayein kitni pyari hain...
Kyun Mr.
of course!
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