Make it move.
Make it grove.
Just make it before it makes you.
Make sure you are the one that holds the dice.
Cause happiness can melt away like ice.
Your scattered puns.
Your worthless jokes.
Enough to make a grown man choke.
You can’t even stand up straight.
Let alone look me in the face.
You know that all you had is gone.
And now you weep out your sad song.
Well life ain’t pity and the world is cruel.
It is no ones fault but you that you are such a fool.
Take away your diamond rings.
Your sports cars and all your things.
And what did you find out to be true?
That you never understood the golden rule.
So here I stand and there you sat.
Like a hobo or an abandoned cat.
You are less then them now, you fool.
You can’t make it any less true.
Your profit gain was but a loss.
Did you even consider the cost?
Of playing Satan or being his tool.
Only to find your master is cruel.
Did you find your success?
Or was it just a worthless mess?
What did you want me to prove?
Do you know?
Or did it come to you real slow?
What was life between your truths?
What was it like behind your suit?